


Fire Burns Brightest at Night

by iridiumring92



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Depression, First Kiss, Lots of Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridiumring92/pseuds/iridiumring92
Summary: A half smile pulled at Noct's lips. "No need to worry about it.""I worry about you far more than I should." Ignis knew as soon as the words passed his lips that he shouldn't have said them, but there was no taking them back.Ignis has spent his whole life learning to control and suppress his emotions, to keep his world ordered and logical. But after all this time, he still has one weakness he can't seem to control: his feelings for Noctis.When Noctis is injured on the road, he finds it harder than ever to keep his affections to himself.





	1. Ignis

**Author's Note:**

> _"There's a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep_   
>  _Wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks_   
>  _Then it walks, then it walks with my legs_   
>  _To fall, to fall, to fall at your feet"_   
>  [\- Florence + the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z27Q_CM7ghU)
> 
> This story is based on chapter 6 in-game, but it focuses on the development of Ignis and Noct's relationship, and takes some detours from the actual events of the plot.  
> I'm writing because the world of FFXV has filled me to the point of overflowing. This energy has nowhere to go except the page. I'll write myself dry and I think that's going to take a while, so hello everyone. Hopefully the stories in my head resonate with you in some way. . . .

Ignis Scientia had discovered that he had one weakness.

He’d considered himself to be virtually without them after his many years of training. But the problem had little to do with his training.

The problem, in fact, started with Noctis Lucis Caelum.

He’d been tasked with taking care of Noctis, making sure that the prince came to no harm. But the sense of responsibility that Ignis felt had grown greater and greater over the months, the years they’d been together. And it had only weighed on him more as they’d set out on this journey, this . . . whatever it was.

One night, while the others had slept, Ignis had lain awake staring into the darkness. Restless, he’d gotten up and walked out to where they’d parked the Regalia, lowering his weight gingerly onto the hood. There he’d perched, looking out at the road. He kept thinking of Noctis. The prince’s narrow shoulders, his slim waist, his hair falling into his eyes, his rare smiles. Those images had flashed through his mind nearly every day lately, at the wheel, before he fell asleep. Sometimes he’d catch himself drifting off and thinking about the prince in ways that would’ve made Noctis blush, had he known. He couldn’t _let_ himself sleep, not with those thoughts running through his head.

He shouldn’t have been letting himself drive, either. He was much too sleep-deprived to be alert at the wheel, and he was afraid the others had noticed. But there he was, sitting on the hood of the Regalia in the middle of the night, depriving himself even further of sleep.

“Noctis . . .” he said aloud, though he knew the prince wouldn’t hear him.

Ignis knew he couldn’t hold onto these feelings. There wasn’t a chance in hell Noctis felt the same way, and besides, as royalty Noctis would never be able to stoop so low as to enter into a relationship with an advisor, at least not publicly.

He felt himself beginning to fall toward sleep, the darkness weighing him down, and then Noctis stood in front of him, in front of the Regalia, his slight form fitting between Ignis’s knees. Ignis reached out to him. Noctis took his hand.

“You . . .” he began just before jolting awake. Noctis was nowhere to be seen.

Ignis clenched a fist. He’d been trying and trying to confront this, but he just hadn’t been able to make himself do it. And yet when he closed his eyes, remnants of his dream came back to him in flashes—Noct, standing before him, ephemeral in the scarce light. The little light that remained in his eyes, the shadows over his lips.

He looked up into the ink-black night sky. _Noctis Lucis Caelum is, indeed, my single weakness._

If Prompto or Gladio knew, they’d no doubt give him hell for it. They might never let it go. And he would feel— _invalidated._ Like everything he’d ever built himself up to be would collapse and break under the weight of that single fact. And why? He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Because he was so weak as to fall for the person he’d sworn to protect? Because he’d submitted to his feelings?

But no, he refused to truly submit to his feelings. He might acknowledge them, might make room for them, but he wouldn’t accept complete and utter defeat because of them. He would keep them locked down tight, in a place where no one but he would ever know of them, and he would soldier on.

“Ignis?”

He started. “Who’s there?”

A figure stepped out of the darkness beside him. Iris Amicitia, sister to Gladiolus. She was the last person he’d expected to find out here, out of the four of them, but perhaps she was a light sleeper.

“It’s just me,” Iris said. “Sorry to scare you.”

“No, it’s—fine. I just . . . thought I was alone.” Ignis sighed. “What are you doing up, anyway? Something wake you?”

 “I thought I heard something. But I’m not sure,” Iris said with a slight shrug. “I just decided I’d get up and go for a walk or whatever.”

Ignis frowned. “You know, if I weren’t here, it could be dangerous. Gladio wouldn’t want—”

“I can take care of myself.” Iris crossed her arms. “I know the risks, anyway. You shouldn’t worry about me, and neither should he. All right?”

“All right.” Ignis couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at his mouth. “I understand.”

“Okay,” Iris said with a sigh, smoothing her skirt and moving to sit on the other side of the Regalia’s hood. Close enough to be next to him, not close enough to touch. “So what are you doing out here, Ignis? You don’t look so good.”

He cleared his throat. “Haven’t been sleeping much, I have to say.”

“Why’s that?” She leaned forward a little, and though he didn’t look at her, he could feel the concerned weight of her gaze. “Is everything okay with you and . . . ?” She tipped her head toward the two tents they’d set up in the clearing, their usual tent alongside the smaller one they’d set up for Iris.

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

Iris must have sensed something in his face and tone, because she didn’t look away. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “if you don’t want to talk about it, you can just say so. You don’t have to lie. But . . . if you do, I’m here. I promise not to tell.” She smiled, pressing a finger to her lips. A silent promise.

Part of him wanted to. Part of him knew he would feel better once he’d gotten this off his chest. But he also couldn’t, because once Iris knew, there was no telling what would happen next. He trusted her—he didn’t think she would volunteer the information to anyone, even in confidence, even to her brother, if he asked her not to—but secrets had strange ways of escaping. And if Noctis found out, he’d be almost certainly ruined.

“I can’t talk about it,” Ignis said. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Iris leaned back, sounding the slightest bit surprised. Maybe he was imagining it. “If you say so.”

Ignis looked away again, but as soon as he did, his subconscious called up that recurring image of Noctis. It lasted for only a fraction of a second, yet the reminder sent his heart rate and blood pressure spiking. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“I think you need to get some sleep,” Iris said. “It’s not nightmares or something like that, is it?”

 _More like fever dreams._ Ignis slipped his glasses back on. “No, I just . . . It’s nothing, Iris. You should sleep. I’ll stand watch here, in case that noise you thought you heard is indeed something to be worried about.”

Iris stood up and turned toward him, offering him a small, sad smile. “Ignis, now you’re making me worry about _you_.”

“Don’t,” he said. “I’m fine.”

She took a deep breath and began walking toward the tent. A few steps later, she paused, and he heard her voice drift through the darkness. “Stay safe out here.”

“Thank you,” he said after she was out of earshot.

He tried not to fall asleep, but his whole body felt so heavy, and his eyes ached to close. He drifted off once, still sitting up. Just before he was woken by the motion of his chin dipping toward his chest, he was plagued by another phantom: Noctis sitting beside him, his slight warmth bleeding into Ignis’s body, his head resting on Ignis’s shoulder. Ignis woke with a sharp intake of breath. He didn’t dare go back to the tent now, not when sleeping there could jeopardize his darkest secret.

Would he wake to some dream he couldn’t stop remembering, and find himself unable to look at Noctis the same way again? What if he reached out, half-awake, to find that the person next to him wasn’t Noctis? What if the others caught him murmuring Noctis’s name in his sleep? Hell, he didn’t even know if he’d ever said Noctis’s name in his sleep—or anything—but he didn’t want to find out.

He could sleep in the Regalia, uncomfortable though it was, and as long as he woke up early enough he could claim he’d just been out getting things ready. With a sigh, Ignis slipped into the driver’s seat, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Someone was shaking his shoulder. Hard. Ignis swatted away the hand at his arm and sat up. “What—” he began, before blinking the images before him into focus and realizing that _someone_ was Prompto. The sun was already high overhead. _Damn it._

“What the hell happened to you?” Prompto asked, sticking one hand on his hip. He was standing just inside the Regalia’s ajar passenger door, having leaned over the seat to wake Ignis. “Take a midnight drive or something?”

“Something like that.” Brushing himself off, Ignis opened the driver’s door and stepped out.

“And you didn’t make it out of the car before you crashed?” Prompto said. “I mean fell asleep, not crashed the car. Noct would have your head if you broke his car.”

 _Noct._ Ignis ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. “Yes. I was pulling the key out of the ignition and thinking about things I’d need to do come dawn, and I happened to drift off. Happy?”

“Iggy, it’s fine,” Prompto said. The expression on his face looked the slightest bit hurt, and more than a little confused. “Just making sure you’re okay is all. I mean, I was kinda worried you were unconscious or something. Gladio wasn’t, but like, how was I supposed to know? It’s not like the Regalia is our designated place to sleep. And driving at night is dangerous. And creepy.”

“Won’t happen again,” Ignis said. _Unless Noct wants to go somewhere._ The thought made heat rise to his cheeks, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. He glanced away, hoping Prompto hadn’t noticed.

“Ignis?” Of course he’d noticed, damn him. “You sure everything’s good? Where’d you go?”

“I didn’t go anywhere,” Ignis said. “Not anywhere in particular. I was just driving.” A truth followed by a lie. He felt guilt wash over him even as he spoke, but the truth was a much stranger story, and one he didn’t dare tell.

“Maybe you should’ve just stayed here.” Another voice joined the conversation, and Ignis tensed. He looked back in Prompto’s direction to find that Gladio now stood next to him. Ignis hadn’t seen him approach. “We might have needed you here. Or you might have fallen asleep at the wheel. Not your greatest decision, Ignis.”

“I know. Like I said, it won’t happen again.” He fought to keep his anger from showing—to keep his expression neutral and his hands from clenching into fists. He couldn’t be angry with Gladio, anyway. The only person he had to blame for this was himself.

“Good. Well, if you’re rested up enough to drive, all we’ve got left to do is get our stuff and wake up Sleeping Beauty.” Gladio aimed a thumb over his shoulder at the tent where Noctis was, undoubtedly, still asleep.

“Yes, of course.” Ignis paused, glancing around them. “Where is Iris?”

“Said she was getting ready. She’ll probably be out here in a minute.” Gladio started to turn back toward the tent before looking at Ignis again. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”

“Don’t antagonize him, Gladio.”

“Never said I was going to.” He turned his back on the two of them and strode off.

Ignis sighed, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the Regalia’s driver’s door. In doing so he faced away from Prompto, but Prompto circled the car to stand beside him anyway.

“What’s on the schedule for this afternoon?” Prompto asked.

“More driving. We’ll stop if—if Noct wants to, of course,” Ignis said, hating the way he stumbled over the prince’s name. He kept his eyes fixed on the line of trees beside the road.

“That’s it? What if I want to take pictures?”

“Ask Noct.”

Prompto sighed dramatically. “Fiiine. You’re no fun, Ignis, you know that?” He turned and looked over his shoulder, and at the flash of a camera, Ignis flinched.

“ _What_ was that?” he snapped, but Prompto had already run halfway back to the tent, camera in hand. No doubt he’d captured Ignis’s brooding profile and was prepared to immortalize it with the rest of the pictures he’d taken so far. Normally he didn’t mind Prompto’s random candid photos, but he didn’t particularly want to remember the look on his face while he’d been trying not to think about Noctis.

He hadn’t woken to dreams this morning, he knew that much. He could only hope he’d looked more like he was simply dozing in the Regalia than crashing. After all, he’d left the others in the first place so as not to embarrass himself.

“Get your ass in the car,” he heard Gladio say from behind him.

“Yes, sir.” Noctis.

“Gladdy, you need any help?” Iris.

“No, I’m—Prompto, no pictures, it’s too early in the morning.” Gladio again. “I _will_ kick your ass, I promise.”

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Noctis.

Ignis couldn’t help but smirk, even as Gladio said, “Yours too, Prince Charmless.”

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Noctis shuffling toward the Regalia, rubbing his eyes like he hadn’t seen the sun in a year. “Good morning, Noct.”

“Morning.” He stopped in front of the back door on the opposite side. “I could go back to sleep. . . .”

“I’d advise you not to,” Ignis said, still struggling against the smile that insisted on curving his lips. For some reason, seeing Noctis drowsy made him feel marginally better—it reminded him of the way he’d felt late last night and put thoughts in his head reminiscent of his dreams.

“But I’m tired.” Noctis dragged a hand through his hair.

“I suppose if we’re on the road a while, you can take a nap.”

Noctis shrugged. “I guess. Just don’t let Gladio wake me up.”

“You do look like you’re about to drop,” Ignis said. He turned to the back door behind the driver’s seat and opened it, then walked to the side of the car where the prince stood and rested a hand on his shoulder. “This way. Wouldn’t want you to trip over your own feet.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, but he endured Ignis’s touch until he could slide into the backseat. Ignis tried not to let his hands stray and closed the door.

Prompto, Gladio, and Iris were with them a moment later. Gladio, carrying on a conversation with Iris, put their gear back into the Regalia, and Prompto leaned over one side of the car with his camera positioned in front of his face. Noctis looked too tired to brush him off.

“Are we ready?” Ignis asked as Prompto took shotgun.

“Ready!” Prompto said.

“I could use some more sleep,” Noctis said at the same time.

Gladio slid into the backseat, Iris between him and Noctis. “You’ll live.”

Ignis found himself behind the wheel again, and as soon as he started the car and pulled onto the road, he realized how little he’d slept. It’d been long after midnight by the time he’d decided to sleep, and Prompto must have woken him around nine. At least he seemed to be in better shape than Noctis, who was currently falling asleep in the seat behind him.

Or so he thought. As the miles wore on, he wanted more and more just to close his eyes. And whenever he did, the phantoms came back to haunt him. Phantom touches, warmth, sights. If he fell asleep, would he be with Noctis, finally?

“Iggy? Hey. Ignis. You’re drifting.” A hand closed around his arm, forcing him to tip the wheel and maneuver the car back into the right lane. Ignis glanced down and saw the ink that indicated it was Gladio’s hand. Next to him, Prompto was looking between the two of them as though trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Sorry,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Do you need a break? Noct can drive,” Gladio said, earning a grumble of opposition from Noctis. “Seriously, if we get into a car accident—”

“I’m fine.”

Prompto was still looking at him, probably thinking of this morning. _Damn it._ This, after the two of them had found him asleep in the Regalia earlier? Too conspicuous. They’d know by now that something was wrong. He kept his hands clenched around the wheel and hoped neither Prompto nor Gladio would say anything about it in front of Noctis. _Focus. Focus._

“We can stop here,” Noctis said as they closed in on a gas station and a few other buildings scattered around the road. Grateful, Ignis pulled over and found a parking spot, and the five of them stepped out.

“I’ll need to refill the gas tank, but I can meet you all somewhere in a few minutes.” Ignis pocketed the keys and looked to Noctis, who had already started to walk off.

The prince turned and met Ignis’s eyes, and Ignis almost flinched to avoid that inevitable contact, to keep his expression hidden. He didn’t want Noctis to see anything compromising in his face. But he forced himself not to look away, hoped his expression was truly unreadable.

Noctis said, “We won’t go very far,” and kept walking. Ignis breathed a sigh of relief.

Standing beside the car, waiting for the gas tank to fill, he felt himself falling toward sleep again. He’d very nearly fallen asleep driving not long earlier, but he couldn’t let himself give in. Sighing, he withdrew the gas pump, dropped a few gil into the machine, and headed for the café.

A while later, making his way toward the door with a half-empty coffee cup in hand, he nearly ran into Prompto, who appeared in the doorway without warning. “Hey, man, where’ve you been? I thought you said you were gonna meet us when you were done with the car.”

“I did. I was on my way to you, I just thought I’d pick something up before we left.” Ignis held out the coffee cup.

“Are you that tired?” Prompto asked, grinning. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Noct and Gladio talked to a hunter just now, and he told them about some job not too far from here. They want to take it on. You know, get some gil, maybe treasure. . . . What do you think? Wanna come? Or would you rather stay back?”

“I will _not_ be staying back, Prompto.”

“Better hurry up then,” Prompto teased before taking off at a jog through the parking lot. When he turned around at the edge of the street and Ignis still hadn’t moved, he called, “Thought you said you were coming!”

“I am.” Rolling his eyes, Ignis took one last drink from the coffee cup, disposed of it in the nearest trash can, and followed.

Noctis and Gladio waited for them behind a row of buildings. Gladio had his arms crossed over his chest, while Noctis sat on the ground, still looking like he could fall asleep.

“Where’s Iris?” Ignis asked.

“She wanted to take a shopping trip or something.” Gladio glanced back at the two short rows of buildings. “I told her to stay behind. This is dangerous, even for us.”

“I don’t see why she couldn’t come along.” Ignis looked to Gladio and knew immediately that Gladio had seen the challenge in his eyes and heard it in his tone. “We already have to protect Noctis, anyway.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Noctis said into his hand.

Gladio answered Noctis without even looking at him. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Perhaps one of us should double back and ask Iris if she wants to come?” Ignis turned his palms to the sky. “I don’t see why leaving her here is better, in fact. If the Empire happens to show up, she’ll have nowhere to go, and we won’t be there for her.”

“Why would the Empire come after Iris?” Gladio asked, glaring in Ignis’s direction. “If anything, they’ll be after us. Not her. Besides, there are buildings, and rooms with doors to lock—where we’re going, there’s nowhere to hide. And since when do you make decisions for Iris? I told her she’d be safer staying back, and she said fine.”

“Hey, guys?” Prompto began, looking more than a little nervous. “Maybe now’s not the time for this.”

“Stay out of it, Prompto,” Gladio said. “I don’t want—” He broke off and looked back toward the buildings, and the others followed his gaze.

Iris had found them. She had an armful of supplies and was grinning. “Gladdy, thank goodness you’re still here. I thought you guys would have left by now,” she said, out of breath. “But I brought you some healing stuff. I thought I could help. If that’s okay.”

Ignis looked at Gladio, who ignored him.

“Yeah, if you want,” Gladio said to Iris, whose expression brightened.

“Great! Okay, I’d be happy to hand some of these things off to you guys, unless you want me to hang onto them for you.” She shifted her grip on the supplies, but one of the potions slipped out of her grasp and hit Noctis in the shoulder. Iris squeaked in alarm. Noctis just blinked. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Noct. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine.” Noctis retrieved the stray potion from where it had landed next to him.

Iris distributed the curatives, and Prompto tried to coax Noctis into action so they could leave. He kept insisting that he was too tired, but eventually he stood and followed them. Ignis imagined, for a moment, hearing those words from Noctis’s mouth, taking the prince into his arms, insisting that they sleep. He brushed away the ridiculous thought and walked after the others. The usual middle of nowhere sprawled before him.

They’d stopped in Duscae. Tall grass and trees surrounded them at nearly every turn, and buildings, in the rare places where they could be found, hid behind swaths of branches. Occasionally, the trees gave way to huge patches of land populated by nothing but rocks, soil, and the occasional hostile.

That was where the five of them were headed. They emerged from the trees that surrounded the road, with Noctis running in front, Gladio beside him. Ignis was pulling up the rear. He’d been staring after Noctis when he noticed the shadow of a ship moving in the distance.

He swore under his breath. “Imperials,” he called out, interrupting whatever conversations were going on ahead of him. “Ten o’clock, Noctis.”

“Serious?” Noctis glanced to his left, slowing his pace as he studied the shadowy outline of an Imperial ship.

“Keep moving,” Gladio said. “We should get out of the open.”

Ignis refrained from pointing out that there was nowhere for them to go. Even the tree line behind them was too far away to grant them cover within a reasonable amount of time. Instead he followed Noctis and Gladio, and watched the ship inch closer.

“If they find us, we fight,” Gladio said over his shoulder. “Iris, be careful.”

“I’ll be _fine_.”

Mere minutes later, the Imperial ship had, in fact, found them. Though likely there had been no doubt before, even at that distance. Magitek Troopers rained to the ground in front of them. Ignis’s daggers were in his hands before he could think about it. Ahead of him, he saw Noctis’s engine blade appear.

Noctis struck first. Ignis rushed into the fray after them, daggers flying, alongside Prompto and Gladio. He tried to keep an eye on Noctis at first, but the MTs were launching their attacks at light speed, and Noctis seemed to be doing fine on his own. _Focus._ He turned away to concentrate his attacks, and the soldiers were history in seconds.

 “Assassins,” Prompto said and toed the lifeless machine at his feet. “They’re getting serious.”

Noctis released his sword into the air, letting it vanish. He dusted off his hands. “Could’ve been worse, though.”

Ignis turned to face Noctis and barely managed to keep from recoiling. “Noct. What are you saying? You’re injured.”

The prince just stared back at him. A cut on his cheekbone welled red blood, threatening to spill over. Ignis closed the distance between them and dabbed the blood from Noctis’s face with his thumb. He didn’t think about it until his hand brushed Noctis’s skin, flushed and warm from the recent battle, and when he realized what he was doing, he jerked back. “Iris, over here.”

“Got you covered.” She pulled a small vial from her pocket and applied some of the healing medication inside to Noctis’s wound, and it began to mend immediately. “There. Better?”

Noctis nodded. “We should keep going, before they come for us again.”

He turned away from them both.

Ignis clenched his hand into a fist. How had he let himself slip like that? Reaching out to cradle Noct’s jaw in his hand had felt so . . . effortless, so right, yet now he was watching the prince walk away, tension clear in the lines of his shoulders. In his sudden anger, Ignis lost himself. He wanted to go after Noctis, take him into his arms, whisper his name. He wanted to trace the prince’s shoulders with his hands until he felt the stiffness there ease. He wanted the prince to see him. He wanted to fall to his knees.

“You okay?” Iris asked from beside him.

Ignis shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes. Fine.”

Ahead of him, Prompto turned around, brandishing his camera. “You two joining us or what?”

“None of that, Prompto,” Ignis shouted back and broke into a jog to catch up. Prompto snapped a picture anyway.

“Where are we even going?” Prompto asked a few minutes later, as the five of them continued their trek through the tall grass. They’d made little progress. The terrain around them looked unchanged, and there were no signs of the road or any places to make camp. Neither Noctis nor Gladio had mentioned seeing their targets.

“A little farther,” Gladio said. “Should be getting close.”

“I hope so, because it’ll be dark soon,” Prompto said.

“You afraid of the dark?”

“Well, of course I am, it’s swarming with daemons! I’d be stupid not to!” Prompto said. “Ugh, it’s not even that late yet.”

“Let’s get in there, take out the targets, and find somewhere to crash,” Gladio said. “Come on.”

The sun had sunk even closer to the horizon when they came upon their targets. Ignis checked his watch and saw that it was barely three in the afternoon—they seemed to be losing daylight, literally, with every day that passed. But there was still enough light to fight.

The targets: a pack of havocfangs. At least ten of them, from what Ignis could see between the bushes that framed the area. In front, Noctis crept forward, preparing to strike. He turned to the others and signaled with one hand: _three, two, one._

Noctis vanished and reappeared in the center of the pack, weapon in hand. The others raced after him, even Iris, and within seconds they were all lost in the whirlwind of bloodshed. Ignis let his thoughts dissipate—except the single command to focus on eliminating any threats—and lost himself in the fight. He flipped daggers into the air, spun in circles, blocked, parried. Never was he more focused than when he was in combat, protecting Noctis.

The pack was strong, but weaker than the Magitek assassins they’d encountered earlier that day, and soon they’d rid the area of them. The air around them was silent again, the ground newly fertilized with havocfang corpses. Ignis turned to face the others, but as soon as he did so he realized something was wrong.

“Where’s Noct?”

“He was just here,” Prompto said. “He can’t have gone far.”

 _Don’t panic._ Eliminating threats and protecting Noctis were two different things, Ignis remembered for the thousandth time, and he’d just failed at the second. Something had happened while he focused on the battle. He should have been focusing on Noct. The thought made his chest ache.

“Noct!” Prompto called out. There was no answer.

Ignis scanned the horizon. He could see no one around for miles, and yet—Noctis wasn’t here with them, was he? But at the same time that thought crossed his mind, Gladio said, “Here!”

He crouched just outside the perimeter of havocfang carcasses. Ignis swore and ran across the clearing, trying not to trip over the dead creatures.

Ignis knelt in the dirt and shook the prince’s shoulder. He lay facedown on the ground, one arm outstretched, as though he had tripped and never gotten up. But he was warm, and his chest rose and fell with even—though shallow—breaths. “Noct. _Noct._ Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

Noctis stirred, opened one eye. “Ignis. . . .”

“What happened? Are you hurt?” He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing gloves, wished he could press his palm to the prince’s cheek and feel the heat of his skin. If only to see how bad it was, he told himself, to see if he was feverish. He was still trying to convince himself of that when Noctis moved.

He reached down and lifted the hem of his jacket with one hand, revealing a tear in the fabric of his shirt and—and blood. Ignis peeled back Noctis’s shirt just enough to reveal the offending wound. It looked like a knife had grazed his side, just above his hip. Most of the blood, it turned out, was dry, but the cut was still open and hadn’t completely clotted.

“Didn’t . . . heal,” Noctis said, the words slightly slurred.

Ignis shook his shoulder again, and Gladio spoke up from behind him. “Noct, what’s wrong with you? What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” Noctis admitted. He tipped his head back, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. His hands pressed against the skin around the wound, and a pained sound escaped his throat.

“Noct, just hang on. We’ll figure something out.” Ignis swept the prince up into his arms. Noctis swore softly into Ignis’s shoulder. Gladio called after them, offering to take Noctis, but Ignis refused.

Letting Gladio carry Noctis to their next destination would have been a better idea—he couldn’t deny that. But the feeling of having Noctis in his arms was too addictive to give up. The prince’s head rested next to his shoulder, his back against Ignis’s arm. His eyes were shut, his face flushed and drawn with pain, and yet Ignis couldn’t stop stealing glances at the hollow of his throat and the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. He had to force himself to pay attention.

He lagged behind, struggling with Noct’s weight, and Prompto hung back with him while Gladio and Iris ran ahead. Just when he’d begun to wonder if he would make it or if he’d have to stop and let Gladio carry Noctis, he saw Iris looking down at them from a rock marked with runes. A safe haven. Ignis breathed a sigh of relief.

After a short struggle up the hill that led to the site, Ignis found the others laying out some of their supplies. Iris had spread one of their blankets out on the ground, and it was there that Ignis placed Noctis’s unconscious form.

As Iris examined the wound, Ignis shook Noctis’s shoulder slightly, but the prince didn’t respond. “Noct,” he said, his voice beginning near a whisper and rising uncontrollably. “Noct!”

“He’s out,” Gladio said. “Iris, what do you think? Is he bleeding too much? Or is it poison?”

“I don’t know.” Iris took Noctis’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. “The symptoms are similar, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Ignis said, fighting back panic. “And while he does seem to have lost blood, it can’t have been much. Not from a wound like this. It has to be poison.”

“Don’t we have antidotes?” Prompto asked.

Iris’s face fell. “I didn’t pick any up when I went looking. I thought you guys just needed potions and stuff.”

“Not your fault, Iris,” Gladio said. “We can try to wait it out. His system might get rid of it eventually. I know I’ve gone without antidotes before.”

“No.” Ignis shook his head. “Not happening. It could kill him, Gladio.”

“Then what’re we supposed to do?”

“I could scout around,” Prompto offered. “Or run back to that store Iris went to.”

“It took us hours to get here,” Ignis said. “You won’t make it in time if you try to go that far. If you’re going to scout, at least stay close.”

Gladio crossed his arms over his chest. “And you think we’re going to be able to find antidotes out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Not impossible. You’re the one with field-survival experience anyway,” Ignis said. “Iris and I could stay here. We’ll call you back if he improves.”

“Yeah, but—” Sighing, Gladio ran a hand through his hair. “My skills don’t include finding specific things in limited areas. I usually just pick up whatever.”

 _Try. Try,_ he thought. _For Noct._ “There’s nothing else we can do.” He gestured at the sky, which grew darker by the minute. “And we won’t be able to go anywhere soon without being attacked by daemons.”

“Fine. You two stay here, we’ll go look out there. Anything happens, tell us.”

Gladio turned to leave, and Prompto ran ahead of him, humming some song Ignis had never heard before. Ignis shook his head, wondering why Prompto couldn’t just take things seriously for once. He turned back to Noctis.

“I’ll see what I can find in the supplies. Be right back,” Iris said and stood up.

Ignis sat by Noctis’s side, alone. Iris, sitting several feet away, had her back turned. The dusk was nearly silent around them. Ignis brushed Noct’s hair out of his eyes, and as he did so, he felt the unnatural heat of his skin. Definitely a fever.

Iris turned toward them, and Ignis quickly sat back, putting a few feet of distance between himself and Noctis. But he wasn’t fast enough. Iris noticed his sudden movement and hesitated.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look really pale, too.”

“It’s nothing.” He waved her off. “I’m worried about His Highness, as you might imagine. We can’t lose him.”

She had an “if you say so” look on her face, but she simply said, “Yeah. I understand.”

He’d fallen too far, too fast. Ignis forced himself not to look at Noctis. “Did you find anything that might be of use, then?”

“No,” she said with a sigh. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve—”

“Iris, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.” He took a deep breath. “If . . . if anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I failed to protect him, and now he needs us and we can do nothing.”

“How can you blame all of this on yourself?” Iris asked. “It’s not like you hurt Noct. You’ve done everything you can.” When he didn’t reply, she continued, her voice softening. “Do you still need to talk? Or are you afraid Noct will hear you?”

“I don’t need to talk.” The lie burned his throat, and he looked off to the side at Noctis. “I’m all right. Truly.”

“Well, if you do, I’ll be over here.” She sounded slightly affronted, but Ignis couldn’t fault her for it.

The hours dragged on. Dusk became darkness, and Noctis barely moved. Once or twice he shifted and made a small sound in the back of his throat, but when Ignis went to him, he found the prince still unconscious. He touched Noctis’s forehead and found that his fever had not improved. Even though he was asleep, Noctis’s pain was still evident in the set of his mouth and the crease between his brows.

“Noct,” Ignis whispered, his hand light on the prince’s shoulder. “You have to make it. You’ve just got to pull through this.”

He felt Iris looking at him. He had more to say, but he dared not voice his thoughts. _You have to make it. If not for Lucis, if not for the others, then for me. If I were to lose you, I . . . don’t know what I’d do with myself._

Moments passed in agony as Ignis considered the weight of those words. He’d never really thought about the truth of them—never really thought about it at all—but without Noct, his inner compass was directionless. The needle would never point north.

A voice split the darkness, calling Iris’s name and then Ignis’s. Ignis started to rise to his feet, but he didn’t want to leave Noct and sank back to the ground. Iris strode to the edge of the wards and looked out. “Gladdy, is that you?”

“Hey, I’m here too!” Prompto called back.

“Yeah, it’s us. We found antidotes,” Gladio said. “Some other useless stuff too.” He and Prompto emerged from the shadows, both of them slightly blood-spattered and dirty. The sight of them made the tension release from Ignis’s muscles all at once, and while he wanted to stand and go to Gladio and Prompto, he could barely manage to keep himself sitting upright.

“Here you go, Iggy,” Gladio said and tossed an antidote to Ignis, who nearly dropped it.

Prompto noticed his slip and grinned. “Careful.”

“Shut up.” Ignis shifted Noct’s jacket and shirt, exposing the wound again. He could have sworn the prince tensed.

With shaking hands, he applied the medication to the wound. Noctis seized for a moment, his entire body going rigid, and then went completely still. Ignis, having nothing else to hold onto, let the antidote fall to the ground and took one of Noctis’s hands in both of his.

Finally the Crown Prince of Lucis opened his eyes, and Ignis thought for one delirious second that he’d never seen anything more breathtaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional listening, if you're into that alternative metal scene: this fic was partially inspired by Defences' song [Grow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-G6k8KQYco).  
> If not, just looking up the lyrics might shed some light on things.


	2. Noctis

Noctis swam into consciousness slowly, like he was floating up from the bottom of a deep well. And when he surfaced, blinking what felt like sleep from his eyes, he found Ignis looking down at him. Noctis had never seen that particular expression on his advisor’s face—a mix of something like worry and longing. His lips were forming one word over and over. It took Noctis a moment to understand what it was.

“. . . Noct? Noct?”

Prompto appeared behind Ignis. “Is he awake?”

“Noct.” Ignis’s palm slapped his cheek lightly. “Are you in there?”

Noctis tried to sit up, but as soon as he stuck out a hand to brace against the ground, his arm gave out under him and he fell back down. Ignis’s arm slid around his shoulders, supporting him as he sat up a second time.

He rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”

“A safe haven in the middle of Duscae,” Ignis said. “We’re safe. You’ve been out a while, though.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Where’s the sun?” Noctis looked up at the ink-dark sky, barely speckled with stars, and then down to see Ignis’s other hand clasping his. Ignis followed Noctis’s gaze and snatched his hand back.

“Disappeared quite some time ago,” he said, his tone almost absent.

“Hey, Noct?” Prompto strode to Noctis’s other side. “You wanna tell us about your injury? We were kinda worried there for a little while.”

“Still are,” Ignis added.

Noctis sighed. “Think it happened when we got ambushed by those Magitek assassins.” The others stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “I got hit, but I wasn’t really paying attention. You guys were staying on your feet, and later . . . I didn’t want to say anything, I thought I’d just wait it out, but I felt pretty awful.”

“Should’ve said something sooner,” Gladio said. “We almost didn’t have antidotes to fix you.”

“Yeah, thanks to you we had to run out in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, and look for some,” Prompto said, rolling his eyes. “Fortunately for us, a couple of dead soldiers had some extra supplies on them.”

“So I have dead soldiers to thank for my recovery.”

“Yeah. Wait, no!”

Ignis shifted, and Noctis remembered his arm across his shoulders. A wave of exhaustion swept over Noctis, along with a throb of pain in his side, and he realized he wanted to go back to sleep right then. If he could just sleep off the pain and fatigue . . . if Ignis would just stay there beside him and never move, if Noctis could rest his head on his shoulder . . . Damn, he was delirious.

“Noct, you should get some rest,” Ignis said. “Can you sit up?”

Though his muscles shook, Noctis pushed himself into a sitting position, detaching himself from Ignis’s grasp. “Guess so.”

“I’ll get you some food. Just stay here a moment.”

Gladio went to work setting up the tent and the rest of their gear, while Iris followed him around and insisted on helping. Prompto crouched down beside Noctis and shot him a conspiratorial look.

“Ignis carried you back here, you know.”

Was that what this was about? “I thought that’s what Gladio was here for.”

“That’s what Gladio said.” Prompto smirked. “But Ignis insisted. Thought maybe you should know, since you were unconscious and . . . probably don’t remember a thing.”

“Yeah, I don’t.” Noctis ran his hands over his face. “I think I was dreaming. There was so much pain and . . .” He trailed off, not daring to voice the rest of what he’d seen. He thought he’d heard Ardyn’s voice, saying something about waiting for him to fall. And then Luna, whose words he’d forgotten upon awakening. She’d led him through a dark tunnel, shadows blanketing everything except her and a thin light at the end. He’d stepped out of the tunnel and woken up.

“Hey, you’re okay now.” Prompto clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Just try to be more careful next time. We were kinda worried.”

Ignis returned, leaning down to hand Noctis a Styrofoam cup. Noctis accepted it and examined the contents.

“Ramen?” he asked, looking back up at Ignis.

“You’d have to wait longer for anything else.”

“Well, uh . . . thanks.” Noctis ate in silence, and no one else spoke, either. Once he glanced up and noticed Ignis looking at him, but Ignis looked elsewhere as soon as they’d made eye contact. _What’s that about?_ he wanted to ask, but he said nothing.

Finally Ignis said, “So are we not going to talk about how we almost just lost Prince Noctis?”

Not just Noct, or even just Noctis, but _Prince Noctis._ Noctis half wanted to roll his eyes, but . . . there’d been something in Ignis’s expression earlier. Something between hurt and hunger, between ache and anxiety. Something he doubted even Prompto could make light of. He took a deep breath. Whatever conversation was about to come next, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“We weren’t about to lose him,” Gladio said. “He took a hit, which he decided not to tell us about, and then we found him an antidote. If we hadn’t found the antidote, he would’ve slept it off.”

“You don’t know that,” Ignis snapped. “Not all poisons are created equal. Had you not provided the antidote, he could still be unconscious, or worse.” He closed his eyes and readjusted his glasses. “And first of all, we should have noticed Noct’s pain. We should have known exactly when he succumbed to his injury, but no, instead we thought he’d left us. We _failed_ him. Second, Noct, you should have told us you weren’t feeling well. We could have avoided this altogether.”

“Are you done slinging blame?” Gladio asked. “I don’t think you can pin this on Noct. He was trying to fight through it—you should be proud of him for even trying. And let’s not forget the episode _you_ had this morning, Ignis. Passing out at the wheel twice? That’s not even like you.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” Ignis said.

“It has everything to do with this. You’re trying to say that Noct was wrong not to tell us about his injury, and yet you didn’t tell us shit when you started swerving off the road.” Gladio leaned forward, pointing an accusing finger at Ignis. “You said you were _fine._ Well, according to you, Noct wasn’t fine, so you couldn’t have been, either. Why don’t you do some explaining?”

Ignis glared back at him. “There’s nothing to explain. I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? Maybe you should have told us before you decided to drive.”

“Gladio,” Prompto protested. Gladio waved a hand at him in dismissal. “I can’t listen to this.” He stood up and walked toward the edge of camp, but he never crossed the line of runes carved into the rock.

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself, Ignis,” Gladio said. “You’re putting the prince’s life in danger with your distracted driving. For you, that’s worse than irresponsible. And blaming it on us is slander.” He stood up. “Maybe you should get some rest, too. And stay away from Noct for now.”

“Gladio, that’s not fair,” Prompto said.

“Be quiet. Noct, everything’s set up if you want to turn in. Ignis, you can have the Regalia, since you seem to prefer sleeping there.”

Ignis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Right, and I’ve got the keys, too, so if you don’t find me in the morning . . .”

“We’ll just keep going without you. Feel free to head back to Insomnia, or whatever’s left of it. We’ve made it without the car before.”

“All right, I’ve heard enough.” Iris stepped between the two of them, her fists clenched at her sides. “Both of you back off, and stop talking. You’re just making it worse.”

Gladio frowned. “Iris, nothing about this discussion concerns you.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it, Gladdy. I can’t travel with you guys if all you do is fight,” Iris said. “And I think you’re both being unreasonable, anyway. Maybe you made some mistakes, but Noct is fine, and it won’t happen again. Right?”

“Right,” Ignis said in a low voice, while Gladio responded with a grunt.

“Great. Now let it go. No one’s leaving, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to sleep in the car. Noct?” She locked eyes with Noctis, who had been barely following the discussion, and raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“You’re making the decisions here, right?”

“I guess.”

“Then is that okay? Or would you rather these two sent Ignis out with the Regalia and parted ways?” She stuck one hand on her hip.

“I don’t think we’d make it very far without Ignis.” Noctis stared at the ground. “Or the Regalia.”

Gladio took a step forward. “We also won’t make it very far if Ignis wrecks the car with us in it.”

“So he slips up and almost drives in another lane once, and now you don’t trust him to drive at all? Is that how it works?” Iris demanded. “Look, I get it. The fact that we could lose Noct at any given moment is scary. But trust is what’s important here, and splitting up isn’t going to help.”

Ignis seemed to relax, but Gladio rolled his eyes. Prompto appeared at his other side. “Hey, she’s right, you know.”

“Whatever.”

Iris sighed and crossed to where Noctis sat, still holding the half-empty cup of ramen. His head felt empty, his body like it was made of lead. If only he could just lie down and sleep for the next year and a half.

“You okay?” Iris asked.

“I guess. Just tired.” He shrugged and spun the remaining ramen with his plastic fork. “Not really that hungry, either.”

“Let me take that, then,” Iris said, plucking the Styrofoam cup from his hand. “Go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Noctis agreed and left them, pushing through the tent flaps and lowering himself to the ground. But even as he stretched out he felt sleep evading him.

He lay awake, his eyes shut, listening to the others’ voices outside. He kept hearing his name, over and over, though he couldn’t understand most of the rest. _Noctis. Noctis. Prince Noctis._ Couldn’t he escape being Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum for one moment?

He still didn’t understand what the fight had been about. Ignis driving distracted and preferring to sleep in the car at night? Noctis didn’t even have the faintest idea of what that meant. He hadn’t seen Ignis doing either of those things, and even if he had done those things, Noctis didn’t know why he would.

His last thought before he lost himself to sleep was that he wished he could disappear.

 

* * *

 

Voices outside the tent woke him. Noctis eased one eye open against the light that filtered through the flap and the seams in the fabric. Somehow it had become morning already, though he felt like he’d just fallen asleep minutes ago. It seemed nothing had changed except the light.

“. . . should move while the sun’s up. Days have been getting shorter.”

“Let him sleep.”

“I told you to stop coddling him, Ignis.”

They still hadn’t stopped fighting, despite the hours that had passed. Noctis squeezed his eyes shut. He most definitely wasn’t getting out of bed if this was what he would be waking up to.

“I don’t coddle him. And he needs his sleep if he’s to recover from this. We can’t have him collapsing on us while we’re out.”

“He’s _fine_. We got him the antidote, so he’ll make it.”

“Hey, uh, Gladio? Ignis?”

“Would you stay the hell out of it for once, Prompto?”

“I was just going to say we should probably go get Iris, but . . .”

Gladio scoffed. “Fine.”

Noctis heard faint footsteps and thought they’d left, but the next thing he heard was someone pushing aside the tent flap. He lay still and hoped whoever it was would go away.

Instead he felt a hand close around his shoulder, the grip light, almost gentle. “Noct, are you awake?” a voice asked, soft and accented. _Ignis._ Noctis felt a rush of relief at hearing his voice instead of the others’. Probably because Ignis had wanted to let him sleep.

“No,” he said, his voice muffled and heavy.

Ignis laughed softly. “Noct,” he said after a pause, “I should apologize for last night. Things got a bit out of hand.”

“Mmm.”

“Noct.”

He rolled over to face Ignis, who was kneeling beside him, fully dressed and fully alert. Not that Noctis wasn’t fully dressed—he’d fallen asleep in his clothes—but he still felt like death, and he was sure he looked like it, too.

“If you’re okay to get up, you can rest on the way to our next stop. Otherwise, I’ll tell them you said not to bother you,” Ignis said.

“Don’t . . . wanna get up.” Noctis felt himself sinking back toward sleep, and he blinked a few times, trying to ward off the feeling.

“How do you feel?”

“Not great.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, upsetting the bangs that hung across his forehead. Ignis just looked at him. “I’m just . . . not ready for it yet. Tell them to wait for me.”

Ignis nodded. “All right.”

Had Noctis not known better, he would’ve thought he saw Ignis reach out as if to brush the back of a hand against his cheek, then draw his hand away like he’d reached instead for forbidden fruit. Maybe he’d meant to check whether Noctis had a fever. Maybe Noctis actually _did_ have a fever. Or maybe he was imagining things.

“I would never have left you, you know,” Ignis said. “No matter the circumstances. I would never. Will never.”

Noctis couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and in those last moments before he fell asleep again, he heard Ignis stand and step out of the tent.

 _Don’t go,_ he almost thought.

 

* * *

 

The next time he woke, it was in the back of the Regalia. The car was empty, the roof stretched over his head, and the backseat was warm. Late-afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, and he could hear voices outside again.

“We can’t go to a medic. Someone will find out he’s the Prince of Lucis, and then we’ll have the Empire on our hands. Not to mention potential collateral damage if there’s a fight.” He heard the words, rendered in Gladio’s low voice, but understanding escaped him. And how had he gotten in the Regalia? He didn’t remember leaving the safe haven.

“Come on, if we don’t say anything, no one will know he’s the prince. We’ll just get in there, make sure nothing serious is wrong, and then get out,” Prompto said. “And if we have to find him some medicine, we will. It’s not like we haven’t had to go hunting for rare things before, anyway. Medicine isn’t different.”

“Are you sure he’s not just asleep?” Gladio asked. “Noct would sleep all day if we let him.”

“I tried to wake him, Gladio,” Ignis said. “He didn’t respond. He didn’t wake up when we brought him to the car. He didn’t wake up the entire drive—you saw, and Iris, too.”

“But you talked to him earlier this morning, right?” Iris asked.

Noctis pushed himself into a sitting position, made a halfhearted attempt at smoothing down his unruly hair, and opened the car door. His hands shook, and when he stepped out onto solid ground, his legs threatened to give out under him. He felt like a ghost, ephemeral and incorporeal.

He looked up, one hand braced against the car door beside him, and locked eyes with Ignis, whose face was suspended in an expression of surprise and fear. His lips parted, his eyebrows raising just slightly.

“Noct?”

The others followed Ignis’s gaze and saw Noctis standing beside the car. Prompto and Iris broke from the group to go to him, and Prompto put an arm around his shoulders while Iris closed the car door gently behind him.

“You okay, Noct?” Prompto asked. “You look like you need some food or something.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you remember anything about the past several hours?” Ignis stepped forward, as though he wanted to close the distance between himself and Noctis but couldn’t bring himself to. “You seemed to have been unconscious a long time.”

“I remember falling asleep at the campsite,” Noctis said.

“What about before that?”

“You guys were arguing because I dropped during a fight.” He looked at the ground. “I remember the fight, too, so don’t ask.”

“So you haven’t forgotten anything. I suppose that’s good,” Ignis said. “But you’re obviously still struggling to recover, which is unusual. Do you want us to find you a medic?”

“I, um . . . I’d rather you didn’t.”

“What do you need from us?” Prompto said. “Seriously, if there’s anything, just ask.”

“I—I don’t need—I’m fine, I promise.”

“Well,” Gladio said, looking over his shoulder, “we’re at another safe haven, so we might as well set up. It’ll be dark soon, and most of the roads will be impassable.”

“Yeah, Noct, this way.”

Gladio pulled out one of the folding chairs and Noctis, detaching Prompto’s arm from his shoulders, sank gratefully into it. His limbs felt like they wouldn’t hold him for another second. He wondered if the poison had been a kind he hadn’t encountered before, one his body didn’t know how to fight.

Ignis, who had been busy with the equipment, returned to Noctis’s side. “How’s your wound? Do you mind if I have a look?”

“Go ahead.” Noctis leaned back, wincing at the ache in his side. “Still kind of stings.”

Ignis said nothing. His hands—missing their gloves, Noctis realized a second too late—slipped past Noctis’s jacket, under the hem of his shirt, and Noctis fought back a shiver at their warmth against his cold skin, as well as a simultaneous wince at the stab of pain in his wound.

“Prompto. Would you mind handing me another of those antidotes?” Ignis finally asked.

“Yes, sir!” Prompto said and scrambled up from where he’d sat down on the ground. He returned moments later with a vial, which he handed to Ignis.

“Thank you.”

Noctis closed his eyes again as Ignis went to work applying the antidote to the cut. Though he didn’t look down, he felt Ignis’s warm hands and the cool medication on his skin, and some of the throbbing started to recede. He tipped his head back and sighed through his nose.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Much better, thanks.”

Ignis sat back on his heels. “I just wonder why the first one didn’t work the way it should have. Perhaps the Imperials are using a toxin that these antidotes are not properly responsive to?”

“So the Imperials are trying to poison Noct now?” Prompto asked. “Great.”

“Let me get you a bandage,” Ignis said quietly to Noctis. “Stay right here.”

Noctis had no desire to move. Much as he didn’t want to think about it, he realized Ignis was probably right. He’d felt the effects of poison before, when they took on bounty hunts and such, but that had always worn off. He’d been strong enough to fight it, sometimes without medicine. This was different. Besides, it wasn’t unlikely that the Imperial assassins—or at least one of them—used envenomed blades.

“What are you guys going to do?” Iris asked. “We can’t keep moving if Noct doesn’t feel well enough.”

“Stay here for now and see if he improves?” Gladio suggested. “If he doesn’t, looks like we’re gonna need a Plan B.”

Across the campsite, Ignis glared at Gladio. Noctis could practically see what he was thinking: _That’s not what you said yesterday._ But rather than calling him out on it, Ignis chose to remain silent.

“Seems like that’s our only option,” Prompto said with a sigh. “Noct? You good?”

“Whatever you guys decide.” He’d just woken up, and already he wanted to sleep again. He pressed his hands against his face, fighting exhaustion.

Prompto exchanged a glance with Gladio, and not long after that the others were all looking at each other, as if having a silent conversation. Noctis couldn’t decode their expressions.

Ignis returned with a roll of bandages and instructed Noctis to sit up straight. The effort made his muscles ache, but he did so anyway. He couldn’t help but notice that Ignis checked over his shoulder before he unrolled the bandages. Like he was checking to make sure no one was watching—but that didn’t make any sense.

“Your jacket,” Ignis said, almost under his breath.

“What?”

“It’ll just be in the way. I’ll need you to take it off.” He didn’t make eye contact with Noctis while he said this, just kept looking at the supplies on the ground. “And make sure your shirt isn’t covering the wound.”

Noctis slid his jacket off, letting it fall across the chair behind him, and pulled his shirt up a few inches to expose the cut. For some reason, a thought occurred to him that hadn’t before. He hoped none of the others would see him—his skin, pale beneath his clothes, and the thin and barely discernible layer of muscle across his slight torso. He half wished that even Ignis couldn’t see him, though he doubted Ignis was paying attention.

Ignis wrapped the bandages around Noctis’s waist a couple of times, cut them off from the rest of the roll, and secured them with a small adhesive. Noctis smoothed his shirt back down.

“I hope that helps,” Ignis said, “but if it doesn’t, let me know. Or any of us.”

“Thanks.”

He thought Ignis would walk away, but instead he paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on Noctis. “What do you want to eat, Noct?”

Noctis pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Nothing. I’m good. Ask Gladio or Prompto.”

“You need to eat,” Ignis said. “If you have no preference on what, I’ll bring you whatever we decide to make. But if you go without food, you won’t heal.”

“I’d take some ramen if Gladio can spare some.”

Ignis sighed. “Fine. Give me five minutes. Try not to fall asleep.”

He didn’t have to try. The sensations of the past several moments hadn’t yet worn off, and he was kept awake by their electricity, setting his nerves on fire. The absence of pain, the cool evening air against his skin, Ignis’s hands on his waist as he applied the medication and wrapped the bandages. For some reason he couldn’t get rid of that last aftershock. Ignis’s hands, tracing that vulnerable plane of his stomach, his waist, just below his ribs—which were slightly visible in the mirror—nearly the last thing he wanted any of them to see. And yet he couldn’t forget how good it had felt, how his aching skin had tingled, his pain withering in the face of the feeling. He wanted more.

Maybe that was the medication talking, or the poison.

Ignis reappeared from the darkness with another cup of ramen, and when he handed it to Noctis, his fingertips brushed Noct’s. Noctis’s hands trembled. He fought to keep his grip on the cup.

Before he realized it was happening, Ignis’s hand was on his forehead, pushing aside his bangs. “Your fever hasn’t gone away.”

“What?”

“You’re warm,” Ignis said, drawing his hand back. “I’ll see what Iris has in her supplies, but we might have to make a detour to find some medicine. Tell us if you feel any worse.”

Noctis felt worse as soon as Ignis left him, but he said nothing. Instead he tried to focus on his food, though it wasn’t much use. He’d still barely eaten when Ignis stopped at his side again.

“Iris doesn’t have any cold medicine that might help your fever,” he said, apologetic. “And as we don’t know what the poison is, I’m not sure that we can treat it. But if you don’t want a medic . . . our only other choice is to wait it out.”

Noctis shrugged.

“What do you need?” Ignis asked, sinking down into a crouch so that his eyes were level with Noctis’s.

“Just stay with me.” Noctis glanced at the ground. “I keep waking up alone.”

When he looked up again, he found Ignis’s expression startlingly full of worry and surprise and raw concern. But once their eyes met, Ignis’s mouth curved into a smirk and he said, “I wasn’t aware you hated waking up alone, Noct.”

He felt warmth rush to his face. “Not what I meant.”

“I know.” Ignis lifted a hand, as though he meant to reach out to Noctis in some way, maybe to rest his hand over Noct’s, but let it fall back to his side again when he saw Noctis’s hands curled around the Styrofoam cup. “I won’t leave if you don’t want me to. Though if the others decide they want to eat . . .”

“Send one of them over here while you’re gone,” Noctis said. He almost missed the flicker of disappointment on Ignis’s face. “Or just let Iris do it. She’s not too bad at cooking.”

“Indeed.” Ignis adjusted his glasses as he turned to look at the other three. Gladio was still at work setting up the equipment, while Prompto interfered, camera in hand, and Iris rearranged supplies. “Though I admit that I do look forward to it. It calms me somewhat.”

Noctis would have responded, but a camera flash interrupted their conversation, and several feet away, Prompto darted out of sight with his camera. Beside Noctis, Ignis rose to his feet.

“Prompto . . . !” he shouted.

“You should’ve seen the look on your faces,” Prompto called back. “That picture’s going in my portfolio.”

“Damn it.” Ignis took off his glasses and ran his hands over his face. After a moment he crossed to where Gladio was standing and said something to him that Noctis couldn’t hear. Gladio looked amused at whatever it was, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, and gestured to the box that held most of the cooking supplies. Ignis nodded once. When he returned to Noctis, he held an open can of coffee.

“Sorry about that,” he said. There was a forced casualness to his tone—Noctis could sense the tension in his movements, but why it was there, he didn’t know.

“What’s goin’ on?” Noctis asked carefully.

“Nothing.”

“Ignis,” he said. “I mean it. What’s up?”

Ignis hesitated. “I just don’t want you to die, Noct. It bothers me that our current problem has no apparent solution.”

“Stop worrying,” Noctis said. “It’s not going to help.”

“Noct, it is my _job_ to worry about you,” Ignis replied. He let out a long breath and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Never mind.” When he looked away, Noctis half thought he would turn and leave, but he didn’t. He stared into the darkness, the aluminum can shivering in his hand.

Noctis couldn’t take his attention off the can, or Ignis’s hand. Something was definitely wrong, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure what it was. He might have thought it was something to do with his being poisoned, but the discomfort written across Ignis’s frame said otherwise to Noctis for some reason. It looked—it _felt_ —like something deeper, something longstanding.

“I’m starving.” Prompto reappeared, his camera nowhere to be seen. He’d probably put it somewhere Ignis couldn’t find it, Noctis thought. “Ignis, are you going to cook, or is Noct the only one who gets food now?”

“I’ll throw something together,” Ignis said. “But I’ll need a few minutes, so I want to hear nothing from you until I’m done.”

Prompto glared at Ignis’s back as he sat down on the ground and leaned backward until he was horizontal. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

Ignis waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Do you need help?” Iris asked, turning to Ignis.

“I’m fine.”

Noctis poked at the ramen in the cup, thinking that if Ignis didn’t want to talk about it, he might have at least tried to conceal his distress. The thought didn’t stay around long. He was too tired to think, too tired to eat, and not at all interested in food.

He realized he’d been dozing off when someone shook him awake. Startled, he looked up to see Prompto standing beside his chair.

“Hey, Noct. Ignis said to tell you not to starve.” He gestured to the Styrofoam cup still balancing in Noctis’s hand, the ramen inside no doubt cold.

Noctis blinked sleep from his eyes. “Where _is_ Ignis? . . . And what about Iris and Gladio?”

“They turned in,” Prompto said, angling a thumb toward the tent. “It’s late. You should probably get some sleep, too, but I don’t think I can let you do that until you eat.”

“Look,” Noctis said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, “I really don’t feel like—”

“I know. But if you die of starvation, none of us will ever forgive ourselves.” Prompto grinned halfheartedly. “I’ll talk to you if you want. What do you wanna talk about?”

“I don’t,” Noctis said.

Prompto fell silent for a moment. “Noct,” he said finally, “you know how useless I feel when you don’t give me anything to do.”

“Says the slacker.”

“No, I’m serious,” Prompto said, though his voice took on an almost whiny tone. “You’re sitting here dying, and you’re telling me I can’t do anything to protect you? You know how that makes me feel? . . . Well, it makes me feel like Ignis, for one thing.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Uh—nothing! I’m just saying, you’re making me feel like I’m not doing my job.”

“Prompto, what did Ignis say?”

“He didn’t say anything, I just—” Prompto broke off with a sigh at the look on Noctis’s face. “He said you need us and you won’t admit it. And I didn’t get what he meant at first, but . . .”

Noctis shook his head. As far as he knew, that wasn’t like Ignis at all. None of it was. “You sure that was it? Nothing else?”

“Yeah. I mean, he seemed kind of anxious, like there was something on his mind. But he didn’t say what it was, so . . .” Prompto shrugged. “I didn’t actually ask.”

“I just don’t see why he wouldn’t tell us about it,” Noctis said. “I thought we could all talk to each other. Since when is all of this normal?”

“I dunno, man. I’m tired of it already.” Prompto hit Noctis on the arm, holding back the force of the punch a little. “Eat your damn ramen so we can go to bed.”

Noctis almost smiled. “Whatever you say.”

Later, as he slipped into the pitch-dark tent, he paused, looking at Ignis’s sleeping form longer than he should have. But with the cloak of shadows around him, it was impossible to see if anything about Ignis was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just wanted to say thanks for all the support for Chapter 1, I really appreciate it! This chapter was a little bit of a struggle to write/edit, and this week hasn't been kind to me in terms of free time. But I'm working a little bit every day, and I should have the next chapter up soon! :)  
> If you wanna talk I'm on tumblr [@iridiumring92.](https://iridiumring92.tumblr.com/)


	3. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I am broken and cold, restless and low_  
>  _I am a child alone, lost in the road_ "  
> [\- Bury Tomorrow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_5hGDSasxA)
> 
> Things have to go a little bit wrong before they can go right, right . . . ? :3 Hold on, 'cause we're going downhill.  
> I listened to ["Hunt or Be Hunted"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZ0tYj7_u4w&index=13&list=PLu2-bIFUJI4gcWHMM8nJ-OgY21oGF0kSv) from the soundtrack on repeat while I was writing one of the scenes in this chapter, so I'd recommend listening to it. (It's one of my favorite battle themes in the game, tbh.)  
> Anyway, hopefully everyone's had a good week! Mine's definitely been rough. I've been looking forward to getting back to AO3 and Tumblr for days.  
> And, as usual, thank you to everyone for the support!

Ignis woke up with a headache and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. His only comfort was that he hadn’t revealed his feelings for Noctis.

But he also knew that he’d gone too far. Until now, he’d managed to keep it concealed, but now he was certain that the others knew everything wasn’t all right with him.

He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and return to sleep, but he had appearances to keep up, so he dragged himself into a sitting position, put on his glasses, and left the tent.

Outside, the air was still cool and the sun hadn’t yet risen. Ignis began to gather the equipment, all the while trying to keep his thoughts on his surroundings and off Noctis. He opened an Ebony, loaded some of the equipment into the Regalia, waited for the sun to rise. Occasionally he stopped, closed his eyes, and pressed his fingertips to his temples in an attempt to ward off his headache, but it refused to abate.

“Hey, Ignis . . .”

The voice startled him, and he nearly dropped his coffee. He spun around to face the source. _Noct._ What was he doing up this early?

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could give his answer, he realized Noct wasn’t there at all. Prompto stood across from him, looking rather confused—the same as Ignis felt, truthfully.

“You sleep okay? You didn’t look great last night.” One of his hands scraped through his blond hair, which stuck up in all sorts of directions as usual.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Ignis said, leaning against the Regalia.

“All right, whatever you say.” Prompto shrugged. “You know, Noct was saying to me last night that for people who are supposed to be able to tell each other everything . . . we’re pretty bad at it.”

Ignis paused with the can of coffee halfway to his lips. “Noct said that?”

“More or less, yeah.”

Unable to think of a reply, Ignis fell silent. Had the prince noticed he’d been acting differently and become that desperate to know the reason? Or was this about the fight they’d had not long ago, when Ignis had scolded Noctis for not telling them about his injury, and Gladio had accused Ignis of being similarly untruthful?

“Just saying, I can be here if you wanna talk. Pretty sure everyone else is still asleep.” Prompto gestured to the horizon, over which the sun had barely risen.

 _If you don’t want to talk about it, you can just say so. . . . But if you do, I’m here,_ Iris had said to him. Ignis wanted so much to pretend like nothing was wrong, but in that moment, he couldn’t keep himself in check.

“No. I don’t wish to speak of this, now or ever. Fine, I’m not well, as I’m certain you’ve noticed, but for the last time, I would _like_ to keep the reasons to myself. It is not the business of any of you.”

At the look on Prompto’s face he knew he’d finally said too much. Ignis took a deep breath. “I apologize. That was out of line.”

“No, it’s cool,” Prompto said, but at that same moment, another voice contradicted, “You can say that again.”

Gladio stepped out into the clearing. “I’d say you definitely have some explaining to do now, Ignis.”

“The matter is not of any consequence,” Ignis said. “Noct’s condition is of the most importance at the moment. If you ask me, we’d do well to focus on that and not these petty disagreements we’ve been having.”

“Gladio, I agree with you,” Prompto began, “but Iggy has a right to his own privacy, too, you know. If he wants to be left alone, we should leave him alone.”

“You’re going to take his side? After he almost fell asleep driving?” Gladio crossed his arms over his chest. “This wouldn’t be our problem if you hadn’t _made_ it our problem, Ignis.”

“Then I will ensure it is no longer your problem,” Ignis said. “And we can forget all about it.”

“What the hell are you keeping so private, anyway?” Gladio asked. In response to this, Ignis snorted.

“We’re done here,” he said after a moment of silence.

In the minutes that followed, Ignis was so angry that he could hardly even think about Noctis. He wanted to be left alone, he wished he didn’t even have these feelings in the first place, he longed to tell Noctis how he felt. He’d spent years— _years—_ training himself to ignore difficult feelings, to lock them up somewhere deep down so that they wouldn’t cloud his judgment. But he’d never experienced this particular one before, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

After making sure most of the equipment had been stored, he walked to the outer edge of the safe haven and looked over the horizon. Beyond the runes was a cliff, the landscape dropping off to yield miles and miles of grass and trees, the Disc of Cauthess even slightly visible in the distance. Watching the horizon, he could almost allow himself to calm down.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard someone behind him cough quietly. Ignis took a breath to compose himself and turned to face whoever it was.

“We’re leaving,” Noctis said. “If you want to come. If you don’t, that’s fine.”

Ignis took a few steps toward the prince. “Noct, did you not hear what I told you yesterday? I said I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Was he imagining things, or did Noctis blush? “Yeah, but I also woke up to you guys fighting again.”

“Ah.” Ignis hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Don’t pay us any attention. It won’t change the fact that our job is to protect you, and stay by your side.”

“Yeah.” Noctis sighed. “Okay.”

“We should get back to the others, then. Don’t want to keep them waiting too long,” Ignis said and started to make his way back toward the Regalia. He paused a step past Noctis. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said, though Ignis could hear the strain, the exhaustion still lingering in his voice. “Should be able to make it today, I think.”

“Good. I hope you’re right.” Ignis couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and place a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

When they’d reached the Regalia, where the others waited, Ignis moved to open the driver’s door only to feel Noct’s hand grip his elbow, pulling him back. “Hey, do you want me to do this?” he asked, those blue eyes of his concerned and piercing.

“Absolutely not. You need to rest, and this is what you have me here for, anyway,” Ignis said. “You can take the backseat with Gladio and Iris. If you’ll hand me another Ebony once we get on the road, I’ll be fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Noctis murmured and stepped back, his hand slipping from Ignis’s elbow. Ignis immediately felt that he’d wronged Noctis in some way, wanted him never to move his hand from his arm, wished he wasn’t wearing his jacket so that he could feel that intoxicating skin-to-skin contact.

He slid behind the wheel, needing to give in to the sensation of highway hypnosis that sometimes overtook him on long, monotonous drives. But less than a mile out, Noctis remembered to slip him a coffee from the backseat, and his fingers brushed Ignis’s. Ignis could barely focus the rest of the way.

They reported back to the hunter who’d given them the job before Noct had been poisoned. He thanked them for eliminating the threat and told them he’d probably be able to come up with some more jobs for them if they needed it, though Ignis noticed he wouldn’t make eye contact, and kept glancing past them into the street. Ignis followed his gaze once and saw nothing. He hadn’t met the man before they’d set out on the hunt, and he thought he might have cautioned the others against taking the job if he had.

Ignis stepped forward. “In the meantime,” he said, “do you happen to know of any healers nearby? Or anyone who could provide us with medicine?”

“Not sure of anyone specific,” the hunter said, shaking his head. “But I’m sure there’s someone around here selling medicine. Among other things.”

“All right. That’ll have to do for now.” Ignis started to turn away. “Thank you.”

As soon as they were out of earshot of the hunter, Noctis hissed, “Ignis, I’m fine.”

“You weren’t yesterday.” He turned to the others, who walked slightly behind them. “Is it possible that the poison has passed through Noct’s system already? Or are we only seeing a decline in symptoms?”

“If he’s not showing any signs, it’s possible that it’s not affecting him anymore,” Gladio said.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s a for-sure thing.” Iris stepped forward. “I’ve heard of poisons that kill without symptoms. The victims pretty much die in their sleep.”

“That’s pleasant,” Prompto said.

Ignis dragged a hand through his hair. “If the Empire does indeed have tabs on us, we can’t be asking around about medicine. They’ll know exactly what toxin they used and what stage of decline Noct will be in, and they’ll attack us when we’re at our weakest. When Noct is at his weakest.”

“Wait, what’s this about the Empire keeping tabs on us?” Prompto asked. “Since when is that something we should be worrying about?”

“It’s not at all new, Prompto,” Ignis said. “They keep dropping Magitek Troopers on us at inopportune moments. It’s obvious they have some way of knowing. The question is, to what extent are they watching us, and how much does it have to do with the poison?”

“What do you mean?”

“The poison could well have been an accident, though I highly doubt that, from the Empire. The envenomed blades could have been intended for anyone,” he said. “Or the act could have been deliberate. Perhaps they’re waiting for Noct to lose it again so that they’ll have a chance to strike.”

“No way,” Prompto said.

Noctis shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“You’re the one who’s poisoned!”

“The point is, we should be on our guard,” Ignis said. “It’s true that we might need medicine, but we should be discreet about looking for it, lest word get to the Empire. We don’t know their intentions.”

“I’m pretty sure we know their intentions.” Iris had one hand on her hip, her face set in concentration. “I’ll go see what I can find for you guys. I can say it’s for me, or someone from home.”

“Thanks, Iris,” Noctis said.

“No big deal,” she replied, and left them without another word.

“Perhaps we should have discussed what we might need,” Ignis said in a low voice after she’d gone.

Gladio looked after Iris, arms crossed. “Nah. She’s resourceful enough, she can figure it out.”

“So what do we do now?” Prompto asked. “Any chance we can look around too?”

Ignis sighed. “We might as well, if only for the sake of appearances.”

The four of them ducked into the first building they could find—it happened to sell weapons—and wove their way through the makeshift aisles. Ignis stayed by Noctis’s side, and when they were far enough from Prompto and Gladio, he took a step closer to the prince and dropped his voice. “Noct. Any improvement?”

“Yeah, actually, I don’t feel that bad,” Noctis said, not meeting Ignis’s eyes. “You know . . . I think Gladio might be right. About the effects wearing off.”

“If you insist.” Ignis felt irritation beginning to gnaw at him at Noctis’s words, at his blatant dismissal, and pushed the feeling down, down so deep as to never unearth it. He paused, but when he found himself speechless and unable to think of anything else to say to Noct, he turned away.

 _I will not,_ he thought, focusing on each breath he took, _let this get the better of me. I will not._

“You seen Iris around, Iggy?” Gladio asked when Ignis reached the other side of the shop.

Ignis glanced out the window. “No. Sorry.”

“A’ight. Hopefully she gets back soon.”

A shiver traced Ignis’s spine, like a trickle of cold sweat. Like someone was watching him. He looked over his shoulder, but he saw only Noctis, who was still purposefully ignoring him.

He took a steadying breath and tried to ignore the sensation, but it wouldn’t go away. Glancing over one shoulder and then the other—followed by another furtive glance out the window—told him nothing. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was _wrong._

“You okay there, Ignis?” asked Prompto.

“Something feels . . . off about this place,” Ignis said. “Yet I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is.”

When he looked back to Prompto and Gladio, he found them both looking at him with something between concern and alarm. As if they thought he were making things up, but acknowledged he might be telling the truth, and knew that if the latter were so, they must all be in a lot of trouble.

“Okay, let’s go back to the car,” Gladio said. “Get Noctis. And keep it cool.”

“Roger that,” Ignis said under his breath. A few steps later he stood at Noctis’s back again, every muscle in his body taut with apprehension, every nerve screaming. He had to fight to keep his voice down. “Noct.”

“Hmm?” The prince didn’t look at him at first, but when Ignis didn’t reply, he turned his head to focus vaguely confused eyes on him. “What is it?”

Ignis dropped his voice to a whisper. “We need to get out of here.”

Noctis parted his lips as if to reply, but before he could do more than draw breath, the sound of gunfire erupted outside. Ignis threw himself in front of Noctis and faced the window.

Beyond, three Imperial ships had the area surrounded, and Magitek Troopers—he cataloged assassins and snipers in addition to battery soldiers—were on the ground as well as in the air, creating a circle around the town’s main street and buildings. Gladio and Prompto stood side by side, weapons drawn. Iris had frozen in the doorway of the shop across the street.

Behind him, Noctis moved to break into a run, but Ignis held out an arm, stopping him.

Noctis glared at him. “The hell are you doing? We’re fighting!”

“ _You_ are not,” Ignis said. “You’re practically still injured from our last run-in with the Empire. I’m not letting you endanger yourself out there.”

“I’m the reason the Empire is here!” Noctis shouted. His voice rang throughout the room, and Ignis winced, knowing they now had the attention of anyone else in the building. “Injured or not, I won’t let you do this without me. That would be selfish. And _wrong_. Too many people have already died for me.”

“Noct,” Ignis said, but the prince had already blown past him and launched himself onto the battlefield. The street outside soon became a flurry of steel and movement, and Ignis had no choice but to follow.

He didn’t take his eyes off Noctis a single time, even when Noctis executed warp-strikes and vanished in midair. Ignis kept his blades moving, taking down soldier after soldier, though they seemed never to stop spilling from the ships above them. A solution came to him as his eyes strayed to those ships, and he shouted Noctis’s name.

“What?” The prince was dealing with three Magitek axemen on his own, though, Ignis noted, he had the battle well in hand. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“I need you to get up to those airships and take them out,” Ignis said. “Preferably with explosives.”

He thought he heard Noctis sigh. “On it,” he replied, and a couple of seconds later he vanished, leaving a trace of light in his wake.

Ignis felt his heart drop in his chest at the realization that he could no longer see Noctis, but he occupied himself with the steel in his hands and the droves of Magitek Troopers surrounding him. He’d just fallen into a rhythm when he heard someone scream.

One of the soldiers had Iris. She still stood near the door of the building on the opposite side, and she had what looked like a metal crowbar in one hand, but evidently it hadn’t been enough to defend her. The soldier, who had a chokehold on her, pried the makeshift weapon from her grasp and tossed it aside.

“ _Iris!_ ” On Ignis’s right, Prompto and Gladio were still fighting through the tide of Magitek Troopers. It was Gladio’s voice he’d heard, but neither he nor Prompto was anywhere near able to make it to her. “Iris, just hold on!”

Ignis disengaged and sprinted through the fray, shoving aside soldiers left and right as they swung weapons and tried to make grabs for him. He felt blades cut into his shoulders, his forearms, his thighs, but he kept going. If he could just make it to Iris . . .

But the soldier who had hold of her saw him coming. It sprang off the ground and rose into the air, taking refuge inside one of the airships with Iris still locked in its grasp. Ignis froze, and a second later the blade of a hatchet caught him in the shoulder. He fell.

“Noctis!” Gladio called, somewhere far above him. “Don’t take out that ship, do you hear me? Don’t touch that ship!”

“I’m over here!” Noctis said from the airship in the middle, next to the one where the Magitek Trooper held Iris captive. “What is it?”

Ignis rolled onto his side, struggling against the pain in his shoulder. He could feel the hot rush of blood flowing from the wound and into his shirt and jacket. If he didn’t get help or healing soon, he might pass out from blood loss. But the Magitek Troopers around him sensed his weakness and seemed to want to prolong it, throwing kicks to his abdomen and bringing down the blunt ends of weapons over his ribs.

As he fought to regain his footing, he heard Prompto shout Noct’s name and looked up just in time to see a Magitek Trooper push the prince from the deck of the ship. He plummeted through the air and fell into the fray. Ignis didn’t see where he landed, but he heard the crack as Noct hit the ground and winced, turning away.

 _Not good,_ his mind screamed. But his senses were failing him. Black spots clouded the edges of his vision, and his hands were going numb. If neither Prompto nor Gladio could make it to him in time—and they had a duty to Prince Noctis first—he’d fall here. He might never get back up.

The last sensation he registered before everything went dark was that of the ground shaking, along with a sound like thunder.

 

* * *

 

When he came to, his first thought was of Noct. He tried to sit up and found himself forced back down by torrents of pain coursing through his entire body. He fell back, a slight sound of discomfort slipping past his lips.

“Hey, take it easy there, Ignis.” He glanced over to see Gladio striding across the room toward him, past a dark window and a few other hospital-style beds like the one in which Ignis currently lay. “You took some hits.”

“I can . . . see that.” Ignis looked down at his arms and chest, bandaged in some places, marked in others by the red stripes of still-healing wounds or the mottled purple of bruises. He became aware of a steady, dull throb behind his eyes just before a stab of agony went through his shoulder, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. “Where are we? Where’s Noct?”

Gladio sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, first things first, we’re at a clinic in Duscae. The Regalia’s a wreck, but Prompto and I managed to get it here with you two in back. There’s a healer here who’s got our backs.”

 _How did you find this healer? What happened to the Regalia? What about Prompto and Iris?_ Ignis drew breath to ask, but instead another question, still unanswered, escaped: “Where’s Noct?”

“He’s in the next room. He . . .” Gladio hesitated. “Iggy, he fell out of an airship. Broke a few ribs, twisted an ankle, hit his head on the way down. I know what I said before, but I don’t actually want you to feel like you’re responsible for this.”

“You don’t want me to feel _responsible_ for this?” Trying to speak, trying to take deep breaths, made Ignis’s chest hurt. He had to stop to regain his breath before he could continue. “I was the one who told him to go up in those airships. I . . .”

“Yeah, and I caught him off guard by shouting at him. It’s not anyone’s fault,” Gladio said. “Shit just happened. Besides, when Noct fell, the Fulgurian—Ramuh—sent down lightning to blow up two ships and take out the rest of the troops. Must’ve saved him from getting completely obliterated by the ground, too.”

“The Fulgurian. Thank the Six. . . .” Ignis squinted. “But weren’t there more than two ships?”

“The third one got away,” Gladio sighed after a silence. “With my sister in it.”

“Iris? That can’t be.” But as he replayed the scene in his mind, he remembered seeing her with the lone Magitek Trooper on that ship—the one Noctis hadn’t warped to yet. The one Gladio had warned him not to tamper with.

Gladio nodded. “We think the ship flew back to one of the Imperial bases in Duscae. So if we want Iris back, we’re going to have to infiltrate it.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Ignis made another attempt at sitting up. “Let me see Noct. I can’t—” Bolts of pain lanced down his spine and across his ribs, and after a short struggle, he once again gave up.

“You can see him later,” Gladio said. “When he’s awake, and you can walk.”

Ignis’s throat tightened, and he tipped his head back, closing his eyes. _I’ll see Noct this very moment,_ he wanted to say. _I can’t go on without him._ But at that moment, pain flashed through his shoulder again. He clapped a hand over it, trying to hold back the grunt of surprise that escaped him.

“Hey.” Gladio took a step closer, rested a hand on Ignis’s good shoulder. “Do you need something for that? I can call in our healer.”

“No—I’m fine,” Ignis said through his teeth. “Leave me.”

“If you say so.”

He left the room without argument, letting the door slide shut behind him. Alone, Ignis tried to fight the combined aches of his injuries, but as the minutes passed, they worsened until he felt like his skin was on fire. He couldn’t bear it. The pain, along with the distance from Noct . . . He arched his back and felt the wound in his shoulder open, and he had to turn and bury his face in the pillow to muffle his cry.

Ignis lay on his side, his breathing ragged, his blood trickling into the bandages around his shoulder and chest. He just wanted to see Noct. No. He wanted the prince there beside him, to take him into his arms and ask if he was all right. He needed the warmth of Noct’s body beside his, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath, the one-two beat of his heart. He remembered taking care of Noct’s wounds before, hands on his waist as he wrapped the bandages. Ignis wished he could feel Noctis shiver beneath his touch, or hear his sighs, but he likely never would, and he knew it.

The prince wouldn’t feel that way about him. Didn’t.

His shoulder throbbed, and Ignis gripped the edges of the pillowcase, needing something to hold onto. He should have asked for medication. He needed the pain to keep him awake. He wanted to sleep. He was a mess.

No one could see him this way. He’d be damned if he let them. The Ignis Scientia they knew did not break, not like this, not over his own feelings. He most certainly did not think about having the Crown Prince of Lucis in his arms every night. He did not . . .

His cheeks were wet with tears. Ignis didn’t bother to wipe them away—it was too much.

Gladio and the healer returned hours later, after the pain had subsided a little and Ignis had dozed off, but he still felt like hell when they woke him. The healer, a middle-aged woman with light hair pulled back into a ponytail, apologized over and over for not providing Ignis with anything to soothe his pain, though Ignis had refused it himself. He was too exhausted to correct her, and let her attend to his injuries in silence.

His shoulder needed stitches. The healer used something to numb it, and the sudden absence of pain there had him breathing a sharp sigh of relief. He felt no more than a few tugs as the stitches went in.

The healer left when she’d finished with him, but Ignis could still feel Gladio’s presence in the room. He opened an eye.

“Waiting for an invitation?” Ignis asked, his voice thick. “Get out. I don’t wish to see anyone.”

“You sure?”

 _Except Noct,_ he thought. But if he dared voice that sentiment, he might make Gladio suspicious, something he didn’t exactly want while there were still walls between him and the prince. “Yes.”

“Well, feel free to tell me if that changes.” He didn’t care to watch Gladio walk out, but he heard the door close behind him and felt the heavy silence of utter solitude close in.

In the moment when he’d spoken, he’d wanted to be alone, but as soon as he was indeed alone it felt wrong. Noctis’s absence closed in on him, and he tried to take deep breaths to fight off the feeling that he was trapped. Yet the numbing medication hadn’t acted on his ribs, and they protested each time he tried to breathe.

Ignis hissed in frustration, thinking that if he’d been able to move more than a little at a time, he would get up and find Noctis this very moment, Gladio’s instructions be damned. Instead he decided to give in to the weariness that had been lurking beneath his skin. He surrendered to sleep.

His dreams—nightmares?—unfolded in fragments of the scene before he’d fallen unconscious. The ships, the soldiers, losing sight of Noctis. Sometimes things were different than how he remembered them: thirty ships instead of three, an ink-black sky surrounding them and pouring forth a host of daemons, a sea of not Magitek Troopers but actual water that crashed over him and choked him as he lost Noctis. He woke up clutching at his throat.

But the room was quiet and bathed in light, and his wounds didn’t hurt him as much. Ignis spent a few moments waiting for his heart rate to return to normal, and once it had, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

He’d thought it would be easier once his wounds felt less like they were on fire, but standing was a new kind of agony. The wounds he knew about flared up again, bringing with them new aches he hadn’t even felt yet. His legs refused to hold him. He sank back down onto the mattress, defeated.

Ignis looked down at himself and assessed the damage. Some of the smaller lacerations had closed up, and a few of the bruises looked lighter, but most of it was the same. Bloodstained bandages all up and down his torso, crisscrossing cuts, bruises—and he didn’t even want to know what his face looked like. He was missing his glasses, for one thing.

He hadn’t eaten—likely the reason for his sudden weakness. He wondered if the healer or Gladio would bother to come back, or if he would have to try to find his way out of this room to get their attention. He looked around the room and found his shirt and jacket slung over the foot of the next bed. Both were in shreds, probably from the same blades that had rent Ignis’s skin. He couldn’t possibly wear either if he wanted to retain his dignity, and yet he couldn’t very well leave the room without a shirt. He sighed.

Leaning back on the mattress, Ignis stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the patterns there. He couldn’t concentrate, and his head felt like it was spinning. He breathed as evenly as he could around his chest injuries and counted up to ten and back.

The door opened. He’d lost count some time ago and drifted off into sleep, and the sound of the door jolted him back into consciousness. His muscles tensed, but at the stabs of pain that came in response, he relaxed again.

“Ignis?” Footsteps crossed the room, and the next thing he knew, Gladio was leaning over him. He could have closed his eyes and imagined that Noct was the one leaning over him, imagined the prince’s hands on his shoulders, and his mouth brushing . . . But he didn’t dare. “Came to check on you. Last time I was here, you were out cold.”

“You should have woken me.” He wanted to push himself into a sitting position, but the slightest motion at this angle made his body light up in agony.

“I thought you didn’t want to see anyone.”

Ignis sighed. “I don’t. But I haven’t eaten and I can barely stand. I concede.”

“Here,” Gladio said, offering him a hand. Ignis hesitated before taking it and letting Gladio pull him up. He couldn’t escape every short spasm of pain, but soon enough he was on his feet.

“Am I permitted to see Noct?”

“Think so. The healer says he’s in bad shape, but he’ll be okay. He’s awake now, at least.”

 _He’s awake now._ Ignis turned to the table at the foot of the bed and found his glasses lying there, and he slid them onto his face, the resulting clarity calming him. _Noct is awake now. I’ll see him in a moment. And . . ._ “Do you have . . . ?” He gestured to his roughly bandaged chest.

“Yeah. Thought you might ask.” Gladio threw him a black T-shirt, far more casual than the clothes he usually wore but usable. Struggling against his injuries, Ignis pulled the shirt over his head and straightened it out. He’d taken his first step forward when Gladio held out a hand to stop him. “You’re not going to see Noctis until you’ve eaten, though, got it?”

Some part of him wanted to argue, but he knew he’d have to choose his battles. “If you insist.”

He wound up sitting at a table in a quiet back kitchen with Gladio and Prompto, pretending to eat while the two of them actually did eat and watched their phones. He knew he probably hadn’t eaten in days, but he suddenly wasn’t interested in food. Noctis was all he could think about. He guessed Gladio and Prompto had noticed his lack of appetite, but neither of them called him out on it.

Minutes later, they led him out of the kitchen and down a long hallway. Ignis had no idea what time it was, but the light was fading from the hallway’s single window, and the rest was cloaked in shadows. How many days had it been? How long until the Empire realized its soldiers hadn’t finished the job and came back for them? He pushed the thoughts from his mind as Gladio moved to open one of the doors.

He moved halfway into the room and called Noct’s name, and when he received a response—though one Ignis couldn’t quite make out—he stepped inside. “Prompto and Ignis are with me.”

“Uh, hey, Noct,” Prompto began, sidling into the room beside Gladio. “Doing okay?”

“‘Okay’ would be an overstatement,” Noctis said, his voice raspy and breathless and exhausted. At the sound of his voice, Ignis had the near uncontrollable urge to cross the room and lie beside him. He had to clench his hands into fists and keep them pressed at his sides.

 _Okay_ was indeed an overstatement when it came to Noct’s condition. His face was still cut and bruised, his eyes red-rimmed, his jaw and one of his cheekbones bandaged. His lean arms lay over the sheets, straight by his sides, each wrapped in various places in fresh bandages unmarred by blood. In other places his skin was black and blue with bruises.

“Iggy,” Noctis greeted him softly, and Ignis looked up to meet the prince’s tired blue eyes. “Long time no see.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said. He paused only to take a breath before continuing. “Noct . . . I shouldn’t have told you to take on those ships. I’m sorry.”

Noctis was shaking his head before Ignis even finished his first sentence. “Don’t, Ignis. You were the one who told me not to fight in the first place.”

“Iggy, you can’t protect him from everything,” Gladio said.

Ignis took a deep breath—or at least tried. A spasm of pain shot through his ribs, and he abandoned the effort halfway. “I know.”

“What happened to you?” Noctis asked, attempting an apologetic smile. Ignis didn’t miss the pain that flashed through his eyes at the motion.

“I was nearly struck down by a legion of Magitek Troopers.”

“Yeah, before the lightning took them all out. He was practically buried under them after the explosion, and we kinda had to dig him out,” Gladio said.

“ _We_ had to dig him out? I think you mean _I_ had to,” Prompto said, glaring sideways at Gladio. “He was too busy with Noct and made me do all the work.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Who got both of them all the way back to the Regalia? Pretty sure it wasn’t you.”

For once, Ignis didn’t find their quarreling the least bit amusing. While they were distracted and still yelling at each other, he crossed the room to stand closer to Noctis, who looked up at him with cold blue eyes, beautiful in pain. His hands trembled at his sides with the effort of not reaching out, not brushing his knuckles against Noctis’s bruised cheek or scraping strands of hair off his forehead. No, they stayed pressed against his thighs, shaking and yet still.

“How are you?” Ignis asked.

“Feel about as good as I look,” Noctis said with a half-shrug and a wince. “But I’m guessing the same goes for you?”

Ignis nodded once. “How did Prompto and Gladio make it out without so much as a scratch?”

“I’m sure they had their share of scratches,” Noctis said. “But they didn’t fall out of a ship or get assaulted by soldiers. I’m just glad they were able to get us out.”

“What did you do?” Ignis asked. “To call upon the Fulgurian?”

“I don’t know.” Noctis held his hands out in front of him and looked at them. “Prompto and Gladio told me about it when I woke up, but I . . . don’t remember doing anything. I just remember . . . falling. And then everything was dark.”

“You’re lucky to have survived.”

“ _You’re_ lucky I survived,” Noctis said with a slight smile, but Ignis’s discomfort must have shown in his face, because his smile faded after just a moment. “I’m not blaming you, Ignis.”

“Perhaps you ought to.” Ignis turned and began to walk toward the door, though his battered body refused to take more than a few steps. “I should go.”

“Ignis . . .” Noct began.

The sound of his name on Noctis’s lips was enough to make him want to stop, to retrace his steps, to sink to the floor beside the bed and confess. Instead, he looked to Gladio and Prompto, whose conversation had dwindled into silence and who were watching him with confusion. “Noct needs his rest,” he said. “As do I.”

He turned the handle and opened the door to step out into the hallway, though each movement hurt in its own special way. Prompto and Gladio followed him, Prompto saying something to Noct about being back later on the way out, and stopped Ignis before he could go any farther.

“Iggy,” Gladio said, “look, I know this is hard. But he’s going to come back from this. You both are. I’m not going to stand around and listen to your self-pity for the next two months. You better learn to get over yourself and go back to protecting Noct like you always have, because there are always going to be accidents. And I don’t remember any of this bothering you so much before.”

“We could have lost him, Gladio.” The words were like a vise crushing his chest, and he half wanted to take them back. His worst fears, realized by open air.

“I know, but that’s never going to change.” Gladio shook his head. “Noct’s got to learn to protect himself as much as we need to stand by him.”

Ignis let out a short, sharp breath, as much as he could manage with his ribs in the state that they were. “Yes.”

“Something upsetting you?” Gladio asked. “You seem kind of . . . off lately. Besides being injured, I mean.”

“No,” Ignis said. “I’m all right.”

At the look on his face, he thought Gladio would step forward and call him a liar, but he didn’t. He just shrugged and stepped aside. “Well, whatever you say. Prompto. Come on.”

They walked back down the hall in silence, to the room where Ignis had taken up temporary residence. Ignis kept one hand braced against the wall the whole way, to keep himself from falling. He was still unsteady on his feet.

Ignis sat on the edge of the bed while Gladio and Prompto sat opposite him, Gladio on the bed next to his and Prompto in a chair he’d dragged across the room. But none of them said anything, at least not until Ignis finally found his voice again and spoke up. “Does our healer happen to have any sort of strong pain medication?”

Gladio shook his head. “She said there’s some weaker stuff, but not enough strong meds between the two of you. She had to give most of it to Noct.”

“I see.” Ignis decided he could live with his injuries if it meant Noctis felt better. “In that case, I suppose I should try to sleep for now. If you’d wake me in the morning . . .”

“Sure.” Gladio stood.

“Unless you want one of us to stay here with you, in case you need anything?” Prompto asked.

He did, and yet he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. “No, go ahead.”

“Then good night,” Prompto said, and followed Gladio out.

 

* * *

 

 He dreamed of Noctis for two nights. The first night, he woke up time after time from nightmares that the prince was dying in his arms. Each time he woke, he entreated the Six to keep Noctis safe, and found himself relieved that he’d told the others not to stay. The second night, after once he returned to consciousness the heartbeat before Noct would have kissed him, he buried his face in his hands and gave up on sleep.

Ignis wondered if Noct was still awake, if he could go to him. It was indeed the middle of the night, but he’d started to feel bad about walking out on Noct two days ago. He’d offered to forgive Ignis, and in response, Ignis had left.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, retrieved his glasses, and stood up. Each motion still hurt, but the pain was bearable now, and he was strong enough to walk without holding onto anything. Moments later he was out of the room and in the hallway.

He hadn’t been able to create a proper mental map of the clinic, but he remembered enough from when Prompto and Gladio had taken him places. Around the corner and a few doors down was Noct’s room. Ignis knew he’d found it when he saw Prompto posted outside the door, asleep in a folding chair. He turned the handle as slowly and quietly as he could and slipped inside the room.

Noctis was asleep, too, lying on his back with his head turned to the side, one arm draped over the side of the mattress. Someone had left a chair beside the bed, and Ignis eased himself down into it. He studied Noct’s face—the cuts and bruises were still healing, but his expression was peaceful in sleep, the pain absent. His hair was a mess, his bangs falling into his eyes. He’d traded bandages for his usual black T-shirt.

Ignis’s body begged him to reach out to Noct, to brush a hand against his cheek, to push strands of hair from his eyes, but instead he sat frozen, watching the prince sleep and unable to wake him. “Noct,” he whispered, “I’ve done everything wrong, but you forgave me anyway, and I appreciate that. Thank you. I wish to be by your side again.”

Noct didn’t respond, and Ignis dropped his head into his hands. He was sitting in a dark room, watching Noctis sleep and talking to himself. What kind of an idiot was he? Standing up from the chair, he’d turned to leave when he heard the whisper of sheets shifting.

“Ignis?” Noctis’s groggy voice asked.

He sighed. “Yes.”

“What’re you doing here? Isn’t it the middle of the night?” Noctis blinked against the darkness, his hands scraping for purchase against the mattress to push himself into a sitting position. Ignis’s gaze snagged on his fingers creasing the sheets for a moment.

“Yes,” he said again. “I just wanted to talk to you. But perhaps now isn’t the best time.”

“Doesn’t really matter.” Noctis gave a small shrug.

“All right.” Ignis crossed the room and dropped into the chair again. “It’s about two nights ago. You said you wouldn’t blame me for what happened, and I accept that now. I won’t leave you like I did then. I’ll continue to stand with you.”

A half smile pulled at Noct’s lips. “I knew you would. No need to worry about it.”

“I worry about you far more than I should.” He knew as soon as the words passed his lips that he shouldn’t have said them, but there was no taking them back. He could only hope that the shadows concealed the warmth he felt bringing color to his cheeks.

“Ignis . . .”

 _Don’t,_ he wanted to say. _Don’t say my name like that._ But he’d already revealed too much, and instead he leaned back in the chair, putting more distance between himself and Noctis.

“How do you feel?” Ignis asked. “Are your wounds healing as they should?”

“I think so. The healer said I was doing fine.” Noctis looked down at his hands. “Everything . . . everything hurts, though.”

Ignis reached over and took one of Noctis’s hands in both of his, and began to trace patterns on his palm, softly, with his index finger. Noctis didn’t try to pull away, and when Ignis looked up, he saw that in fact, Noct had closed his eyes. His exhaustion seemed to be taking over, enough so that he’d relaxed into Ignis’s touch. Maybe he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Maybe things would be better that way.

“The poison?” Ignis asked, though unsure if Noctis was still awake enough to answer. “Have the effects subsided?”

“I think so,” Noctis said. He paused a moment before looking up at Ignis. Even in the darkness his blue eyes were intense, and Ignis’s heart stalled. “Thank you.”

“Noct . . . you know I would do anything for you.” The truth, and one he’d allow Noctis to hear. Even before his emotions had decided to get in the way, he would have said the same.

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled softly, the smile of someone who’d already begun the descent into sleep. Ignis wanted to return the gesture, but he hurt too much—because of lying his way around his feelings, because of seeing the prince like this. Yet Noctis didn’t seem to mind. He closed his hand around Ignis’s, so that their fingers laced together.

“Noct,” Ignis whispered, but Noctis’s breathing had already evened out, his eyes fluttering shut again. Even in sleep he kept hold of Ignis’s hand.

Frustration and desire seared through him, and he dropped his chin to his chest, closing his eyes as if that would block out both the feeling of Noctis’s hand in his and the sight of the prince sleeping, oblivious, before him. He wanted only to be able to lie next to Noct, to wake beside him in the morning, to have Noct look at him with all of his attention. . . . But he could never have Noct. He hated that he still couldn’t make himself understand that.

He held Noctis’s hand as long as he dared, and when dawn finally began to break, he stood up and went back to his own room.

Things would be easier, he decided, once he could forget how to feel again.


	4. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note on music: I started listening to ["Invidia"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=915hk5GtYto&list=PLXqMfEEZPA85BsOVTgIsh-l4DJRgoKyXk&index=18) from the soundtrack while writing this chapter, and it's even better with headphones.  
> As always, major thank yous to everyone for the support. . . . I was especially happy to see all the comments on the last chapter! :)

Even with the four of them at breakfast, Noctis noticed, things were still quieter than ever.

Every day since he’d woken up at the clinic, he’d stayed in his room to eat, with either Prompto or Gladio to sit with him, but this morning he’d felt well enough to get up. The healer at the clinic had given them their own table and offered them full use of the kitchen. Ignis had studied the inside of the refrigerator and apparently come up with something, because he’d launched into his usual routine, striding back and forth across the small space.

Neither Gladio nor Prompto spoke, so Noctis watched Ignis work. His hands still moved in sure, deft arcs, despite the fact that he’d been injured. He didn’t seem to be feeling his injuries at all, in fact. At least until he made a wrong motion and caught his left hand on the edge of a pan. He stepped back with a sharp cry of pain, grimacing and cradling his hand against his torso before releasing it and shaking it out.

“You okay there, Iggy?” Gladio asked.

Ignis sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m fine.”

Noctis studied him as he returned to cooking. He didn’t look fine, not anymore. He was clearly trying to keep his composure, but his face was still tight with pain, and his left hand stayed at his side.

“Do you want something for that?” Noctis asked.

Ignis met his eyes with something between surprise and suspicion, though the emotions were masked by the still-apparent pain. “No,” he said. “Thank you, though.”

Still Prompto and Gladio remained silent. If Noctis hadn’t still felt the lingering tendrils of pain writhing throughout his body, he might have stood up, taken some ice out of the freezer, and held it to Ignis’s burned hand. But he didn’t trust himself to stand.

He gave a small cough. “Can we talk about what we’re going to do now?”

For a moment, only more silence answered him. But after a while, Gladio nodded and said he supposed they should, and he and Prompto launched into an explanation. For the most part they kept their voices down and the details to a minimum. They’d have to try to make it in the Regalia, though the car wasn’t looking the best. They thought they’d figured out the location of the Imperial base where Iris was being held. Once they got there and saw it for themselves, they could draw up a plan of attack.

“Ignis,” Gladio said, “what do you think?”

“It’s all we’ve got to go on, for now,” Ignis replied. “But perhaps we should wait until Noct’s feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah.”

None of them said a word, even as Ignis set plates on the table in front of each of them and sat down.

Noctis was busy pushing food around his plate and the others were finishing when they heard footsteps in the hall, moving toward the room at an alarming pace. The four of them paused and looked at each other.

In the next second, the door burst open, and their healer stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She was out of breath, like she’d just been running. “All of you need to leave, now,” she breathed. “It’s the Empire. They’re here.”

Ignis dropped his fork. “What?”

“There are two ships a few miles that way. They must have found out you were here, and . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, pressing her hands against her face.

“It’s not your fault. Thanks for all your help,” Prompto said, standing up from his chair. Ignis followed suit with murmured agreement, and Gladio took Noctis’s arm, pulling him to his feet.

As soon as they’d stepped out into the hallway and closed the door to the kitchen, Prompto’s calm façade shattered. “What are we gonna do? The Regalia’s an absolute mess, there’s no way it can get us out of here in time! And how did the Empire find us? Don’t tell me someone around here tipped them off!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Ignis said. “They could have located the Regalia, if you two parked it outside.”

“It’s not like there was anywhere else to park it!” Prompto said.

“I didn’t say there was. I just mean that if the Empire is indeed tracking us, the car could be what gave us away. They must recognize it, since we’ve been taking it wherever we go, and we haven’t left this building in days.”

“Then it’s a miracle we got as much time as we did,” Noctis said in a quiet voice, and all three of them looked at him.

“Noct . . . are you gonna be okay?” Prompto asked.

“Does it matter? Let’s just get out of here.” The pain was dull, slumbering within him. He could feel it waiting to be awakened, to send him spiraling toward oblivion. One false move and he’d undo all the healing of the past few days.

“Do you need help?” Ignis asked him as the other two turned to go.

Of course he did. This morning was the first time he’d walked in days, and he doubted he’d be able to make it much farther than he already had, much less run. He could just forget about trying to fight. But he didn’t want to seem weak, not now. “It’ll just slow us down,” he said. “Go. I’ll catch up.”

“If you think that means I’ll be leaving you behind,” Ignis replied, “you’re wrong.”

They let Prompto and Gladio jog ahead to the Regalia, while they walked at the swiftest pace they could. Noctis’s right ankle protested every step, and trying to move at all still jarred his ribs, but he didn’t dare pause. The Imperial ships the healer had mentioned had broken free of the horizon and were moving closer by the second, a couple of their doors already open to reveal the fleets of Magitek Troopers inside. Noctis tore his attention from the ships and turned back to the car.

Ignis pried open one of the half-crushed rear doors to help Noct into the backseat, keeping clear of the windows with their splintering cracks. As he moved to the driver’s door, Gladio’s voice called out, “Ignis, you’re driving?”

“Who else would?” Ignis shouted and slid behind the wheel.

He jammed the key into the ignition and floored the gas pedal just as Magitek Troopers began to drop to the ground around them. They broke free of the first wave within seconds, but a second wave descended not long after and left Ignis with no time to navigate around them. He drove head-on into a line of soldiers, scattering them, sending them every which direction. One of them hit the hood and slid past the windshield, and Prompto let out a shout of surprise from the seat next to Ignis.

“This isn’t going to be good,” Ignis said over the sounds of the car struggling through the remains of Magitek Troopers. “ _Hold on_.”

The road was unobstructed, and once Ignis pulled the car back onto it, they accelerated in seconds to a speed the Regalia had probably never dared reach before. But the Imperial ships could keep up, and they pushed ahead, still spilling out Magitek Troopers. Soon the once-clear road ahead of them was blocked by daemonic soldiers.

“Ignis, you’re not thinking of driving through that, are you?” Prompto asked, his voice shooting up an octave.

“We don’t have a choice!” Ignis kept his foot to the floor, his still-bandaged hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles white.

Noctis had barely taken another breath when the car slammed into the ranks of Magitek Troopers ahead of them, shredding the vehicle’s grill and sending soldiers flying. The impact sent all of them back against their seats. Ignis nearly lost control of the car, and he had to jerk the wheel to the right to keep it on the road.

They stayed on the unobstructed road for a while, the Regalia protesting occasionally but somehow keeping up the insane speed that Ignis commanded of it. Noctis noticed him glancing up at the sky every so often as if to make sure that no Imperial ships still trailed them, but he didn’t slow down.

“How fast are we going?” Prompto still sounded hysterical.

“Just under one hundred miles per hour,” Ignis replied, and Prompto covered his face with his hands.

Noctis was starting to think they’d finally lost the Imperial ships when he heard the sound of another engine whirring way above them. He looked up just in time to see a new wave of Magitek Troopers falling into the road. How much more could the Regalia take? They’d have to find out the hard way, he realized, gritting his teeth.

“Everyone _hold on!_ ” Ignis shouted and drove head-on into the fray.

The car made contact for the last time, the force of it throwing them all backward and shattering the windshield completely. Ignis lost his grip on the steering wheel, and the car went skidding sideways, forcing its way through the group of Magitek Troopers and sliding off the road into the grass, where the hood connected with a tree and crumpled inward. Everything went silent.

The driver’s door fell open and Ignis collapsed into the grass. He rolled onto his back, clutching at his ribs and groaning in pain. Gladio was next out of the car while Noctis and Prompto stayed huddled in their seats in an attempt to recover. Noctis looked past his shattered window to see Gladio crouched over Ignis, asking him what had happened.

Ignis’s breaths hissed through his teeth and his face contorted in pain as he fought to respond. From where he sat in the Regalia, Noctis could hear no more than his frustrated sounds of agony as he writhed in the grass, trying to fight it.

“Hey, look. Iggy. You’re gonna be fine.” Gladio placed a hand on Ignis’s shoulder, trying to both reassure and restrain him. “Iggy. Just calm down and stop thrashing.”

Eventually Ignis did, his protests turning to sharp intakes of breath and soft whimpers of pain. Listening to the strains of his voice on the air, Noctis realized he should have gone to him, but he felt so tired and dizzy, like he’d hit his head. He couldn’t move. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

“Noct,” a voice said, and a hand shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes, reluctantly, and squinted at the source. Prompto. When had he vacated his seat in the Regalia? “Stay awake for me, Noct. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. Theeere you go.”

He turned and looked over his shoulder. “Gladio, can you keep an eye on him for a minute while I call Cindy? I’m going to ask her to tow the car.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Noctis pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to bring himself back to reality. His vision blurred at the edges, and sounds came to him slightly muffled. He turned his head to the side, slowly, the motion making his neck ache. He could see Gladio studying him. Prompto standing off to the side, phone to his ear, somehow unscathed. Ignis lying in the grass, half-conscious from pain.

Moments later, Prompto returned. “She said she’ll be here as soon as she can. I tried to tell her where we were, but since we’re not really anywhere . . . it might take her some time to find us.”

“She’ll find us,” Gladio said. “We just have to keep these two alive while we wait.”

And they waited, none of them saying a word, with the ruined car and the hundred motionless Magitek Troopers littering the ground around them. To Noctis it seemed like an eternity had passed before they finally heard the rumble of another engine and caught sight of the truck rolling up the half-destroyed road to meet them.

Cindy put the Hammerhead tow truck in park and slid into the front passenger seat to lean out of the window, her usually cheerful expression tinged with alarm. “What on earth happened to y’all? And—oh, the Regalia’s a right mess! How’d you even survive?”

“Dunno,” Prompto said.

Cindy opened the driver’s door and stepped out of the truck, striding over to where the Regalia had hit the tree. She walked past Noctis, swept her gaze over the shattered windows, ran a hand along the ruined hood. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to restore her to her former glory,” she said, “but I can sure try. If that’s what you boys want. It could take me a while.”

“It’s not like we have another car,” Noctis said. Gladio shot him what might have been a warning look.

“I understand. I’ll try my best to fix her,” Cindy said with a nod. “In the meantime, do y’all want a ride back to Hammerhead? It might be a little bit of a tight squeeze, but I think we can swing it.”

Prompto looked from the Regalia to the tow truck. “That’d be really nice.”

Cindy laughed. “All right. Let’s get the Regalia moved first, and then we’ll get out of here.”

Not without difficulty, the three of them—Gladio, Prompto, and Cindy—managed to push the car out of the ditch and back onto the road, where they hitched it to the tow truck. Noctis had moved from his spot in the backseat, and he sat on the side of the road beside Ignis—who was still on his back in the grass—while they did this.

“Noct,” he heard a hoarse voice say after a minute or so. “How are you faring?”

His head still felt foggy, and his entire body hummed with muted aches. “I’m okay,” he said. “You looked pretty bad there for a while, Ignis.”

“I think . . . I must’ve broken a rib or two.” When Noctis glanced at him, he saw Ignis close his eyes and press a hand to his shoulder. “And reopened the wound in my shoulder.”

A few seconds passed between them in silence before Noctis spoke up again. “Thanks. For getting us out of there.”

“Absolutely,” Ignis said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I would do it again.”

Having finished with the Regalia, the others left the truck and walked over to the spot where Noctis and Ignis were sitting. Prompto offered a hand to Noctis. “You two need some help?”

“I guess,” Noctis replied, while Ignis added, “More than some, I’d say.”

Noctis took the offered hand and let Prompto pull him to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but after a couple of steps, he found his balance. Ignis, on the other hand, could barely sit up, and only his pride stopped Gladio from carrying him all the way to the truck.

They drove back to Hammerhead in silence. Prompto had wanted shotgun, but since the other three could barely fit into the backseat that way, he’d had to switch places with Gladio. He sat between Ignis and Noctis and spent the entire trip scowling at Gladio, who either pretended not to notice or sent smug glances back at him.

Noctis looked sideways at Ignis, who stared out the window. At every bump in the road, a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. He needed more help than he’d ever admit, Noctis realized.

Once they’d reached the garage and let Cindy take custody of the Regalia, the four of them stood outside in Leide’s dusty breeze. There were a few tables set up at the edge of the asphalt, and they’d walked there as if to sit down, but at first none of them did. No one even spoke.

Finally Ignis lowered himself into one of the chairs. Prompto and Gladio immediately turned to him.

“What’s up, Iggy?” Gladio asked.

“Can’t _stand_ it anymore?” Prompto said, but Ignis glared at him and the grin vanished from his face.

“Let Noct sit down.” Ignis kept his voice low. The others moved aside to allow Noctis access to the other chairs stationed around the table.

At first he hesitated, but his ankle gave a twist of pain as if to remind him what had happened, and he gave in. Sitting down took the weight off his injured leg, but the chair was made out of plastic and not that comfortable.

“So what do we do now?” Gladio asked. “Stay here wasting time until we can take back the Regalia? Or find some other way to hit that military base?”

“We can’t take down the base in this state.” Ignis’s eyes were cold. “Noct and I are in no shape to do anything at the moment, and I’m sure the two of you have your share of injuries. If we go in like this, there’s a good chance at least one of us won’t make it out.”

Gladio turned his eyes to the ground. “Iris . . .”

“We’ll get her back,” Prompto said.

The four of them still hardly spoke to one another that evening. They picked up some basic healing supplies and food at the store and claimed the lodgings nearby for the night, but little conversation passed between them. Once darkness had fallen outside, Noctis decided to sleep and left the others.

The medicine had done little for his deep wounds, but it had managed to take away enough of the discomfort to allow him to sleep. And he was so tired. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could just stay asleep and not have to wake up to this. . . .

But of course he did wake up, to someone’s hand on his arm. He tried to move away, but whoever it was persisted, saying his name a couple of times and putting both hands on his shoulders.

“Let go,” Noctis murmured, trying to pull free.

“Noct, it’s one in the afternoon.” The words finally came to him clear and close, and he recognized the soft, accented cadence of Ignis’s voice. “I’ve bought you as much time as I can, and you’ve had enough sleep for now. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, Noctis drew himself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Ignis sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes held a mixture of impatience, concern, and . . . and something else Noctis couldn’t quite identify. The pulse of pain in his ribs interrupted his thoughts, though, and reminded him of his injuries. _Their_ injuries.

“How are you?” Ignis asked, before Noctis could voice the same question.

Noctis shrugged. “Same, I guess. I’d be worse if Ramuh hadn’t saved me, but . . .” He released a small sigh. “Can’t you just tell them you couldn’t wake me up?”

“They’d demand to know if you were dead.” Ignis stood and held out a hand to Noctis. “It won’t be so bad once you’re on your feet. Trust me, I would know.”

After a moment of hesitation, Noctis accepted Ignis’s hand, and Ignis helped him to his feet. He had to stop once there, to find his balance, and after a second he realized he was practically crushing Ignis’s hand in his grip. He hadn’t noticed, and Ignis hadn’t said a word.

“Sorry.” Noctis let go, backing up a step. “I didn’t h . . . Are you . . . ?” He trailed off.

“I’m all right.”

“Are you recovered?” Noctis asked, studying him. The day before, he’d looked to be in so much pain, but today he looked almost normal, aside from the bandages peeking out from under his collar.

“No, but I’m managing. Don’t waste time worrying about me.” Noctis thought he heard a note of tension in Ignis’s voice and saw the hurt flicker across his face, and for a moment he thought he would ignore it and let Ignis keep pretending, but he remembered how, just nights ago, Ignis had insisted that Noctis let the others share his pain. He straightened and looked Ignis in the eye.

“You wasted time worrying about me,” Noctis said. “So I don’t see why I should ignore the fact that you’re obviously still in pain.”

“Here’s why, Noct,” Ignis said. “You’re the prince—the king—of Lucis, and I am your advisor. My injuries and I are less than important. You are what matters. Don’t worry about me.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Noctis burst out.

“Noct, we are not having this conversation right now.” Ignis moved to the door and opened it, and after a moment of hesitation, Noctis followed him outside. He wouldn’t win this fight, not now.

He met the others in the parking lot, where Cindy was in the middle of explaining her work so far on the Regalia. He’d missed most of the discussion, but Prompto’s jaw was practically on the ground and she was saying something about having worked all night. Noctis wondered if she’d have the car ready for them soon—as guilty as he felt regarding Iris’s abduction, he also wanted another day to rest before having to go into battle again. He knew what Gladio would have to say about that. If they couldn’t survive another day, maybe Iris couldn’t, either.

“You serious?” Prompto said.

“Sure am. If y’all wanted to leave tonight, I could probably have everything done by then. It’s been a much smoother process than we anticipated, so . . .” Cindy shrugged. “Besides, I wouldn’t have given her priority if she were just any old car.”

“Wow. Thanks so much.”

Ignis stepped forward. “You needn’t rush. We’ll need some more downtime before we decide to head out. If you require rest, by all means, don’t push yourself too hard on our behalf.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Cindy said.

She headed back to the garage, where Cid stood near the door and gestured with the box of tools in his hand. Noctis looked between Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis, but they had nothing to say to each other, and they turned and went separate ways.

Noctis sat on the fence that partially boxed in the Hammerhead garage, the buildings next door, and the parking lot, and stared out into Leide’s barren landscape. Clouds of dust grazed the horizon, and the sun blazed down over the earth from its seat in the middle of the sky. He wondered whether the others would notice if he went back to sleep.

He glanced over his shoulder at Ignis, who was leaning against a post next to the station’s gas pump, arms crossed over his chest. He still looked upset. _Don’t waste time worrying about me. We are not having this conversation right now._ Fine, Noctis thought. He was too tired to attempt a conversation anyway.

When it had been dark for a while and the four of them had wasted enough hours doing nothing and mostly avoiding each other, Cid and Cindy reemerged from the garage with the Regalia. Noctis, who’d claimed one of the tables in the parking lot for himself and ended up reluctantly sharing it with Prompto, heard the engine running from across the lot and glanced over.

“She actually did it,” Prompto said under his breath and shoved his chair back. “Hey, Noct, come on. Let’s go see.”

The car looked one hell of a lot better than it had, Noctis saw, though it wasn’t perfect. They’d managed to replace the windows and restore most of the car’s ruined grill and hood, and they’d smoothed out the places where the paint had been scraped away and the doors crushed to make them look passable. They hadn’t been able to erase every imperfection that the crash had caused, but the car was at least serviceable.

“There you are,” Cindy said, flourishing a hand toward the car. “Could still use a few extra touches, but y’all should be able to drive it now. I had some extra stuff in back that I was able to use to replace some of the parts I couldn’t recover.”

Noctis cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said, and the others echoed him.

Once they’d given up most of their money to pay her back and had the Regalia, they stood around the car looking at each other. Ignis had the keys in one hand, his other hand resting on the handle of the driver’s door.

“Shall we depart?” he asked. “Or will we be staying here another night?”

“We should get out of here,” Gladio said. “We can at least scope out the base while it’s still dark.”

“And we’ll be able to come up with a plan for the next night,” Ignis said, almost under his breath. “Noct, do you feel up to this?”

Noctis gave a small shrug. “Only if you let me sleep in the car.”

Ignis drove, keeping an eye out for daemons, and Noctis leaned against the door and closed his eyes. The road wasn’t that relaxing at night, not the way it sometimes felt during the day, with the sun warm on their faces and the wind in their hair. But he couldn’t shake the exhaustion that plagued him, and he dropped off into sleep within minutes.

His dreams began grounded in reality. The four of them, on the road, in the Regalia. Darkness surrounded them, but they were safe. Until the car’s headlights went out and the moon above them disappeared completely.

“Ignis,” Noctis said. “Pull over. We can’t drive in this.”

No one responded or even moved, and Noctis felt the pull of dread in the pit of his stomach. He reached forward and put a hand on Ignis’s shoulder, and just before the Regalia spun out, Ignis turned to him, revealing Ardyn’s face. Black blood dripped from his eyes and down his cheeks.

Noctis jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath.

“Everything all right back there, Noct?” Ignis asked from the driver’s seat. Noctis looked up, and their eyes met in the rearview mirror.

“Yup.” He ran his hands over his face and dragged them through his hair. He pretended to turn and watch the passing landscape, but when he risked a glance back at the mirror, he saw that Ignis was still looking at him.

He couldn’t tell them—he’d look like a terrified child consumed by his nightmares. And trying to explain to them what he’d seen? Out of the question. In the open air, his dream would sound less than sane. Noctis focused on keeping himself awake for the rest of the drive.

After a while, Ignis said quietly, “That’s it.”

A wall surrounded the base, hundreds of feet tall, but it couldn’t conceal the tower in the center, which rippled with occasional shocks of magic. If they wanted to cripple the base, they’d have to take out that tower.

Outside the wall stood a few guard towers, far less intimidating than the one in the center of the base, and most unmanned. Ignis pointed to the one nearest them as he parked the car on the side of the road. When they’d stopped, he gestured to the identical towers that flanked it, where a couple of Magitek Troopers stood watch. He pressed a finger to his lips.

“Should we take them out?” Prompto asked, his voice a whisper but still the slightest bit too loud.

“I’ll leave that to you,” Ignis said. “We’ll keep Noct out of it for now.”

“Roger,” Prompto said, summoning a gun to his hand and flipping the safety off.

Abandoning the Regalia, the four of them climbed the stairs to the first tower. Prompto crouched behind the guard rails and took the first two shots, sending the Magitek Troopers in the second tower to the floor. He ducked, checked his gun, and crept to their tower’s other side. The troopers in the next tower looked agitated, searching for the source of the noise, but Prompto dropped them in a heartbeat with another pair of shots.

“All right. We should be fine here.” Ignis rose to his feet and looked at the base. “The tower in the middle supplies power to the Magitek Troopers. Taking out that tower should be our first objective, so that if anything goes wrong, we’ll be able to escape more easily.” He paused and turned to Noctis. “Noct . . . unfortunately, I have to ask you to do this. You’ll be able to clear the fastest path to the tower, and the rest of us will follow.”

One of Noctis’s hands drifted absently to his ribs, feeling for the injuries there, and got a stab of pain in response. He wanted to turn his back, say he wouldn’t do it, find somewhere to lie down. But he knew there would never be time for that. The Imperials had hidden Iris somewhere in that base.

“Gladio, if you’d keep an eye on Noct, as best you could,” Ignis said, “I’ll stay behind and track the first officer I can find. Preferably one who’s living and breathing. Whoever it is may lead me to Iris. If not by accident, then . . . certainly they can be persuaded. Prompto, you’ll follow me at a distance so as to convey the location to Gladio and Noct when they return from the central tower. From there we should be able to find our way to Iris and break her out.”

“And if we run into problems after we find Iris?” Gladio asked.

“We’ll just have to find a way around them when we get there,” Ignis replied. “We most definitely can’t foresee everything, and we may have to think on our feet. But Noct is still our priority. We must protect him at all costs.”

Gladio exhaled a breath through his nose, but he didn’t object. Noct shifted, uncomfortable, on his feet.

“Tomorrow night, then,” Ignis said. “We should find somewhere to stay in the meantime.”

They made camp just outside the magic field that surrounded the base, almost a mile down the road. The darkness closed in around them, seeming to thrum with the threat of danger, and Noctis was glad for the warding runes that surrounded the safe haven. He wanted to sleep in peace.

But he’d just started to drift off when the sound of voices drew him back from sleep. The tent was dark, and he couldn’t see any light from outside, either, but he heard all too clearly the voices of Gladio, Ignis, and occasionally Prompto. He half wanted to put his hands over his ears and try to go back to sleep, yet he couldn’t help but let himself overhear the conversation.

“Ignis, you can’t just sneak out. Especially since we’re so close to an Imperial base,” Gladio’s voice said. “And last I checked, you were still injured.”

He heard Ignis issue a barely suppressed sound of pain, like Gladio had shoved him or somehow otherwise aggravated his wounds. Despite the lure of sleep, Noctis sat up. He wouldn’t sit by and listen to Gladio harass Ignis—circumstances be damned.

“I’m fine,” Ignis said. A lie.

“Iggy . . . Whatever’s going on, you can’t just leave us like that.” This time, Prompto’s voice chimed in. “It’s dangerous, driving at night. You said so yourself.”

Ignis sucked in a breath and let it out all at once, a sigh of frustration and surrender. “All right. I won’t leave camp. Just allow me a few minutes alone.”

Gladio and Prompto responded with silence, and a moment later they ducked into the tent. There, they found Noctis still propped up on one elbow, slightly groggy and blinking against the darkness.

“Noct,” Gladio said. “You should go back to bed.”

“That might be the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.” Noctis lay back down. The space beside him remained empty. He waited until the other two had stopped shifting, until their breathing had evened out, and then he slipped into the night.

Ignis stood beside the Regalia, alone and cloaked in darkness. But Noctis could see well enough to tell that Ignis turned to look at him when he approached.

“Noct?”

“I heard . . . You guys woke me up again.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And I’m cold. So I came to see what you were still doing out here.”

“You’re _cold_?” Ignis asked, shaking his head. “I needed time to myself is all. I’d go back to the tent if I were you. Being out here without a jacket isn’t going to help you warm up.”

 _That’s not what I meant,_ Noctis almost said, but he decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “Sure you don’t want company?”

“Quite sure. Besides, you should be making certain you’re well rested for tomorrow,” Ignis said. He dropped his voice before continuing. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Noctis didn’t know how to respond to that. “Oh.”

“Trust me,” Ignis said. “I promised Gladio and Prompto I wouldn’t go anywhere. Go to bed, Noct. I’ll follow when I can.”

After a moment of hesitation, Noctis left him. He curled up in his spot in the tent, painfully aware of the empty space at his back, and tried to stay awake long enough to hear Ignis’s return, to feel his peripheral warmth. But he couldn’t stop his slow fall into sleep. He didn’t even know whether Ignis had come back at all, because he didn’t wake up until the next afternoon.

 

* * *

 

“Time to go,” Ignis announced at dusk, standing beside the Regalia.

Darkness fell again as they drove to the Imperial base. Noctis, sitting in the back of the car, took stock of his remaining injuries. All the rest and the healing had helped, but his ribs still ached a little, along with his ankle. He could probably fight through them, he decided. For Iris.

He wondered how Ignis was doing. He’d insisted that he was fine, but Noctis knew those words were for Iris’s sake and his own. None of them had missed the look on his face when they’d wrecked the car and he’d fallen out of the driver’s seat. But still, he refused to accept help.

Too soon, the base loomed before them again, a pale shadow against the dark. Ignis parked the car, and the four of them crept up the road and toward the surrounding gate, keeping an eye out for soldiers on watch.

At one of the towers, a guard turned and began to march down the stairs. Moments later, one of the gates in the outer wall slid open, yielding several more guards. Ignis gestured to the gate, and once the guards had all gone in different directions, their backs turned, he gave a signal with his hand. They broke into sprints, Ignis in the lead. The gate had just started to close when they made it past the threshold.

The guards ahead of them continued walking, and before long, near silence had fallen around them. Ignis turned around and faced them. “That was, rather unfortunately, the easy part,” he said.

“Now what?” Gladio asked. “Head for the tower?”

Ignis nodded. “We’ll split up here. You and Noct go. I’ll track the first officer I can find, and Prompto will point you in the right direction when it’s time. Are we all ready?”

“Ready as I’m ever gonna be,” Prompto said.

“Then let’s go. Stay as clear of searchlights and Magitek Troopers as you can. And Noct,” Ignis said, “use your skills to your advantage.”

“Right.”

Noctis took a deep breath and started forward, trying to take in every bit of detail around him. He kept one hand out at his side, ready to call for his blade if he needed it, and kept to the shadows as he walked. He didn’t know the layout of the base or how best to get to the tower in the center, but he suspected that the soldiers standing at their posts would lead him there, if indirectly. Noctis came to a scaffold on which a Magitek Trooper stood, checked over his shoulder to make sure Gladio was close behind him, and threw his weapon.

A heartbeat later he was on the scaffold, his blade buried in the soldier’s back, his arms aching a little. Withdrawing the blade, he flicked his hand to release it and looked back down at Gladio, who nodded.

From up here, he could see the central tower as well as most of the base. Several other towers were equipped with searchlights. Noctis plotted a path to the center that would allow him to take out the lights, and from there he crept forward on the scaffolding, careful not to let his boots come down too hard on the metal below them. Once he’d judged the distance to be short enough, he summoned his blade again and launched it into the back of the Imperial trooper manning the first set of searchlights.

He switched off the lights and crept down the tower’s staircase, stopping every few steps to check for soldiers. When he found none, he aimed for the next bridge of scaffolding and let his blade fly.

The next searchlight tower was as easily disabled as the first, and Noctis stood at the railing, wondering what the best way to the central generator would be. Blade-warping at this distance would be dangerous, if not impossible. Besides, too many soldiers stood between him and the center of the base. Too many chances to get caught.

He descended the next set of stairs to get closer to the tower. If he could strategically kill the soldiers surrounding it one by one, he might be able to move in close without being seen. Or . . .

Gladio stood on the opposite side of the tower, near where Noctis had warped to the first scaffold. Noctis summoned a pair of daggers to his hands and waved them in the air as a signal. Gladio looked in his direction, and Noctis gestured with the daggers to the various Magitek Troopers patrolling the area.

Gladio gave a nod of acknowledgment. Noctis released the daggers and went in for the kill with his usual blade.

Almost immediately, the lights around them surged to full brightness, and Magitek Troopers rushed in. Sleeping machines woke all around them. The two of them had no choice but to fight back.

As he sliced through Magitek Troopers, Noctis felt someone else’s presence at his back. He turned to see Ignis standing beside him, on his toes, daggers ready in his hands. “Noct,” he said, “we’ve found where they’re keeping Iris. It would be wise for us to flee this fight and get her out of here.”

“I second that,” Gladio called from several feet away, sword still cutting through soldiers.

“Where’s Prompto?” Noctis asked.

A voice shouted back, “Over here!” and he saw Prompto’s blond head of hair among the soldiers’ metal helmets. He was firing off shots practically at light speed, spinning in circles and switching weapons as he went.

“We’ll need to go that way,” Ignis said, pointing with a dagger under one of the scaffolds. “On my mark.”

They fought back the ranks of soldiers, until finally Ignis saw an opening and shouted, “Now!” He snagged Noctis’s arm, pulling him through the mob and in the direction he’d indicated. As they ran, dodging blades, Ignis asked, “Noct, how are you holding up?”

“Getting by,” Noctis replied, calling his blade to his hand for a split second to take out a Magitek Trooper that had gotten too close.

“No side effects?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good.” They’d made it to the bridge of scaffolding, and beyond it, they could see no hostiles. “Then let’s—”

Just before they crossed the threshold, another soldier dropped to the ground in front of them, blocking their path. The soldier, masked but decidedly female, carried a massive lance. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she discarded the mask. A sinister grin crossed her lips.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

Before any of them had a chance to respond, she went for Noctis, forcing him to summon his blade to his hand and block the strike. She continued to rain blows on him, pushing him back, while the Magitek Troopers closed in. Noctis heard Ignis calling the others to arms and the sounds of their battle just behind him.

He fought back with all the strength he could manage, but it wasn’t enough. The female soldier had the upper hand, and she wasn’t relenting. Her every strike pushed Noctis farther back toward the line of Magitek Troopers.

“Did I hear you say something about side effects?” she asked, still grinning sadistically. “Is that the Empire’s poison you’re talking about? Oh, poor thing. I don’t envy you at all. How long ago did they dose you with it?”

“None of your business,” Noctis spat, swinging his sword. She jumped out of the way.

“You sure? ’Cause it looks to me like I’m with the Empire. I would know about this sort of stuff,” she answered. Without a second of hesitation, she struck again, sending Noctis flying back into a row of Magitek Troopers. The collision sent a shock of pain through his ribs and up his spine, and he had to struggle to make it back to his feet.

“Noct!” a voice shouted. Noctis looked up to see Ignis standing between him and the female soldier, weapons extended. The soldier just looked at them and laughed.

“Well, what do you know,” she said. “The prince’s friends are willing to die for him. Shall we see how that plays out?”

“Don’t touch him!” Noctis said, scrambling to his feet despite the pain.

The soldier shook her head. “Nah, I don’t think it’s worth the effort. Not today, anyway. Best be on your guard, boys.”

She grinned at them again, pulled her mask over her face, and leaped into the air, vanishing.

The other soldiers remained. They continued their chaotic advance toward Noctis and the others, weapons swinging. Ignis turned to Noctis, slid an arm around his waist, and propelled him away from the battle. When Noctis nearly tripped over his own feet, Ignis’s hand tightened around his hip. He supported Noctis’s body with his own and kept them both moving.

They stopped in front of the door to a building, concealed behind several fences, a few stacks of equipment, and military vehicles in need of repair. Noctis and Ignis both collapsed in front of it, Noctis from the ache of his injuries and Ignis from the effort of supporting him. Prompto and Gladio didn’t waste any time in following.

“What’re you two doing? Get up,” Gladio said. “They’ll be coming after us any minute now.”

Ignis rose to his feet, trying to conceal his wince at the motion, and offered Noctis a hand. “Noct.”

With a sigh of discomfort and annoyance, Noctis took Ignis’s outstretched hand. Prompto clapped him on the shoulder in an attempt at reassurance while Ignis took a step closer to the door, producing a key card and waving it in front of the scanner. A staccato beep sounded and a green light flashed, and the door slid open.

Ignis pocketed the key. “This way.”

“So does this mean you guys found your Imperial officer?” Noctis asked.

“Indeed. Although, regrettably,” Ignis said, “we had to . . . dispose of him.”

Gladio snorted. “Nothing regrettable about that.”

“Yet now they’ll most certainly know we were here,” Ignis said. He came to another door and pulled out the key card again. This door, too, yielded, and they crossed into another hallway, walled in concrete, damp from a gradual buildup of moisture, and barely lit. One wall was lined with gray metal doors.

“Iris!” Ignis shouted down the hallway, but when there was no response, he began swiping the key card in front of each door, hardly even standing back to watch them slide open. The rest of them trailed behind, waiting to find Iris’s small form waiting for them in one of the cells, but at first they found nothing.

When the second-to-last door opened, they heard a gasp from inside the cell, and Ignis stopped. Sure enough, when Noctis moved forward to look, his eyes met Iris’s. She was crouched in the corner of the tiny room beyond the door, her hands bound.

“Gladdy,” she said. “You guys came. Oh, I’m so glad. Thank you.”

“We should get you out of those cuffs,” Gladio said.

Ignis summoned a dagger to his hand, stepped into the cell, and knelt beside Iris. He slid the blade into the lock on each of the cuffs and coaxed them into unlocking. When they fell free from Iris’s wrists, she let out a short, relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said again.

“Can you walk, or do you need help?” Gladio asked.

“I’ll be fine. Just worry about getting out of here for now,” Iris said. “I’m guessing you guys aren’t in the best shape, either.”

Noctis ran a hand through his hair. “You can say that again.”

His ribs and his back still ached from colliding with those soldiers, and though he’d been trying to ignore it, since they’d come in here he’d felt like his head was swimming. He thought it might just be the dank air, but then again, none of the others seemed to be feeling the same effects. Maybe his injuries were getting the better of him.

“Noct, did you destroy the generator?” Ignis asked, though Noctis could see in his face that he already knew the answer. Likely because of the horde of soldiers they’d just had to fight through. Still, Noctis shook his head. “Then we’ll just have to slip out the back door, so to speak. I believe I know of an exit.”

“I sure hope you do,” Prompto said.

Ignis ignored him. He turned and began to retrace their steps down the hallway full of cells, closing doors as he went. The others followed, Noctis behind them. He tried to keep up, but after his first ten steps, a wave of dizziness broke over him, nearly sending him to the floor. He had to stop and brace one hand against the wall for support. For several moments, the others didn’t even notice, didn’t look back.

But as Ignis turned to close the last cell door, he glanced to the side, and his eyes caught Noctis’s. Noctis thought he saw his eyes widen with alarm, but he couldn’t be sure. His vision had started to blur. His legs felt weak. He had to stand up, to cross the corridor and join the others, but no, sleep was waiting for him. Calling him. He could close his eyes right now and everything, all the pain and all the fear, would fade into nothing. He was so close. So close he could taste the relief in that darkness.

The last thing he saw, the last thing he knew, was Ignis dropping the key card, crossing the corridor in a few long strides, and calling his name. Well, no, that wasn’t true. He was still conscious to recognize the feeling of Ignis’s arms encircling him, that absolute warmth, that security. Noctis almost smiled as he tumbled headfirst into the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like this chapter was a bit of a bridge (apologies if it felt that way to you too), but it's necessary for the next chapter, I promise.


	5. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope your week has been okay. I've barely had time to take a breath, but reading all of your responses to the last chapter has made things better :) so thank you!  
> I listened to ["Nox Aeterna"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtG0NHWLaR0&index=8&list=PLXqMfEEZPA85BsOVTgIsh-l4DJRgoKyXk) while writing the opening scenes of this chapter. I guess that should be a warning as it starts off pretty dark.

Ignis’s phone told him it was after two in the morning. He didn’t feel at all like sleeping.

Iris and Gladio sat across from him at their campsite, Iris cradling a cup of tea and staring down at her feet, and Gladio studying her as if doing so could ensure her continued safety. Prompto had left them to check on Noctis.

Ignis felt too restless to sit. He wanted to pace, or do anything at all to expend the nervous energy that had surfaced in him, but he knew Gladio would give him hell for it. He focused on keeping still.

“What did they do to you, Iris?” he asked, in a quiet voice. “If you don’t mind saying, of course.”

Iris looked up. “They didn’t do anything to me,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to understand. They just threw me in that cell and left me there. And it was cold, and so quiet . . . but they didn’t torture me, or demand that you give them something in exchange for me. It’s not like the Empire at all. It sounds strange, but . . . it should have been a trap.”

“I agree with you,” Ignis said. “I’d be inclined to say their plan backfired, if that didn’t seem to be such a naïve statement.”

“And they must’ve known we were coming,” Gladio added. “Noct stayed out of sight enough, going after that generator, but they still came for us before he could get there.”

“What about that soldier?” Ignis asked. “The woman who attacked us on our way out.”

“You think she had something to do with it?”

“I’ve no idea. But our encounter was rather . . . unorthodox. She fled without demanding any of our lives.”

“It was pretty weird.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Iris asked, leaning forward. Ignis and Gladio looked at each other before beginning to explain the incident. Iris glanced between them as they talked, listening intently.

“She said she was with the Empire?” she finally said. “And she did try to kill you?”

They both nodded.

Iris squinted into the darkness over Ignis’s shoulder. “None of that makes any sense. I mean, maybe it would have, if she’d actually stopped you from getting to me, or if there had been some other . . . obstacle . . . after that. But you all made it out, and you’re fine.” She cast a glance back at the tent. “Well, mostly.”

“She did mention something about the Empire’s poison,” Ignis said. “And how long ago Noct came into contact with it. She must know something.”

Gladio frowned. “Maybe the poison was the trap.”

As he spoke, Prompto emerged from the tent and sat down on the ground beside the three of them. Ignis asked, “How is he?”

Prompto shook his head. “Still out like a light,” he said.

“I’ll sit with him.” Ignis stood up and strode toward the tent before the others could object. He ducked past the flap to find Noct’s unconscious form lying beneath blankets inside, and he suddenly felt lonely and exhausted.

He lowered a hand to Noctis’s forehead, half under the pretense of checking for a fever. But once he’d felt the heat of his skin, he couldn’t move away. He absently smoothed Noctis’s ever-unkempt hair.

Minutes slid by, and while he could hear conversation outside, no one came in or offered to trade places. He counted that a small mercy, since he didn’t know if he’d be able to leave Noct, should the time come. Ignis had nearly let himself drop off into sleep when Noctis stirred.

“Noct,” he said, awake at once.

Noctis’s eyes fluttered open as he struggled into consciousness. Fear registered on his face for a moment before he looked up at Ignis.

“What . . . happened?”

“You collapsed just as we were leaving the base,” Ignis said, keeping his voice quiet, close to a whisper. “We brought you back to camp. It’s been a few hours, but no sign of the sun yet.” He studied the prince’s wide blue eyes, the tears that shimmered in them. “Noct. What is it? Are you all right?”

“I can’t,” he whispered. One of his hands shot out and latched onto the sleeve of Ignis’s jacket. “I can’t do this anymore.”

_What do you mean?_ Ignis wanted to ask, panic rising in his throat. Instead he clasped Noctis’s hand and whispered, “Shhh. I’m here.”

“Ignis . . .” Noctis trailed off, voice dissolving into soft sobs. Without thinking, Ignis swept the prince into his arms, hands skating across his shoulder blades and spine. He pressed Noct’s body against his, letting Noct rest his head on his shoulder. He was warm but shivering. His chest shuddered with each breath, with the effort of resisting each sob.

Noctis tried to speak, but after several tries, Ignis hushed him. “Don’t,” he said. “Noct, you’re safe. Shhh. You’re safe. . . .”

One of his hands ran the length of Noctis’s spine, up to his shoulder blades, down to the small of his back, over and over again. He’d hoped the contact would soothe him, but Noctis only buried his face in Ignis’s shirt, his composure falling to pieces. His breath came in gasps and his shoulders shook.

“Don’t let go,” he said. “Please don’t let go, Ignis.”

Ignis didn’t know what dread scenario was playing out behind Noctis’s eyes, but he guessed the prince wasn’t thinking straight, the toxins in his system putting rogue hallucinations in his mind. Seeing Noct this way made Ignis feel like his chest would cave in.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a hoarse whisper, his throat tight.

 He sat there holding Noctis to him for a long moment, and yet it wasn’t long enough. Someone pulled the tent flap back, letting a shaft of light in. Noctis curled closer to Ignis, who glanced up and found Prompto looking in at them, blank-faced.

“What the hell . . . ?”

“Prompto,” Ignis said, trying to keep his voice down, “we need to find him an antidote. We’re losing him.”

“What?”

“That’s why he collapsed,” Ignis said. “That’s why that soldier at the base mentioned the Empire’s poison. If we don’t get the antidote, it’ll break him. Slowly and surely.”

“Where the hell are we supposed to find an antidote?” Prompto’s voice came out half hiss, half shout, but Noctis still didn’t even register the sound. “Since obviously the regular ones don’t work. Do we have to actually go to Niflheim or something?”

“I don’t—” Ignis broke off midsentence and looked up at Prompto, who just stared back. “Perhaps that was the trap. They’re luring us back to the base to get the antidote.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ignis said. “Does it look like I want to go back? Does it look like I want to take Noct back?”

“Hey, calm down, man. I’m just saying we don’t wanna jump to conclusions, in case we don’t have the right answer.”

“Right.” Ignis sighed. He looked down at Noctis, who had slipped out of consciousness. He’d slumped against Ignis, his hands losing their grip on the fabric of his shirt, the tension leaving his muscles. Each breath he took came even but shallow. “Where else might we find an Imperial antidote?”

“The hunters could have some idea,” Prompto said. Ignis noticed that even he sounded exhausted.

“I’d rather not go back to them, after what happened last time.”

“Yeah . . . me neither.” Prompto shook his head. “But what else are we gonna do? We can’t leave Noct here while we all run back to the base. We’re supposed to protect him.”

“Indeed.”

After a moment of silence, Prompto said, “Let me go get Gladio and tell him what’s up. Maybe he’ll have some insight.”

Once he’d left, Ignis eased Noctis back down to the floor of the tent and arranged the blankets over his slight frame. He moved back a few feet and listened for the echoes of Gladio’s and Prompto’s voices.

A small movement drew his attention away from the tent’s opening. He glanced to the side and realized Noctis had woken again. His eyes were glassy and slightly bloodshot, his lips trembling. He reached out, his hand grazing Ignis’s knee before falling between them.

“Noct,” Ignis said, taking Noctis’s hand in both of his. “We may have to go back to find you an antidote. But if I must leave, I will return to you. I promise you that.”

Noctis stared back at him, comprehending but terrified. “No,” he whispered.

“Noct.”

“You can’t leave,” Noctis said. “You can’t leave me alone. I won’t let you.”

Ignis moved closer, tracing his fingers along the curve of Noct’s jaw, and hushed him. “Not alone. One of us will stay here. But it may not be me.” That overwhelming terror, an expression so foreign on Noct’s face, flooded his eyes again. Ignis stroked his hair. “You need to rest, Noct.”

He waited for Noctis’s eyes to slide shut, waited for his breathing to even out as he fell back into sleep, and then he left his side. He hated to leave him this way, but Noctis’s healing had to come first. He refused to assume the duty of simply staying with him until he lost consciousness completely and irreversibly.

Gladio and Prompto stood outside near the car, deep in conversation. They both turned to Ignis when he approached, suspicious at his grim expression, and fell silent.

“Someone has to stay here with Noct,” Ignis said, his voice too quiet. “He nearly refused to let me leave. But if we don’t find the antidote, I fear we’ll lose him.”

“I say we go back to the base.” Gladio spoke up. “Iris can stay. This area should be safe enough. But we’ll have to hurry, since Noct needs help and we’ll be leaving them without the car.”

_Finally,_ _you acknowledge that Noct needs help._ Ignis didn’t dare voice that thought, not unless he wanted a fight. “Right. We should let Iris know.”

 Mere minutes later, Ignis was behind the wheel of the Regalia again, and they were hurtling through the darkness on the back roads of Duscae. At first Ignis ignored the speed limit and no one said a word.

Finally Prompto asked, “What happens if we run into a bunch of daemons?”

“We keep going.” Ignis didn’t even so much as look at him.

“Yeah, but remember when we tried that before?”

“We don’t have time to stop and fight daemons, Prompto.” Ignis put his foot down, increasing the car’s speed by another five miles per hour. “The more time we waste getting there, the more Noct’s life is in danger.”

Prompto let out a little anxious sigh and sank lower in his seat.

Their safe haven and the Imperial base weren’t far apart, and they reached the base without being intercepted by daemons, but all the gates were closed, and the guards outside had been restored to their posts. Ignis swore when he saw them.

“I can take care of them,” Prompto said.

“Wait. I’ve an idea.” Ignis sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Shall we split up? We won’t be able to fight together, but we should locate the antidote faster if we each search a separate part of the compound. Whoever finds it can call.” He held up his phone.

“Not ideal, but I’ll take it,” Gladio said. “Prompto, what do you say?”

“I guess. Does that mean I have to take out all these soldiers before you guys can do anything?”

“Unless you want us to wait until the watch changes,” Ignis said.

“Fine. Give me a minute.” Prompto pulled out his gun and crouched in the grass, creeping forward until he had a decent view of the watchtowers surrounding the base. Despite his efforts, his first shot went wide, the resulting report alerting the Magitek Troopers in the tower to their presence. He panicked and scrambled backward before getting a few more shots off to take them down.

As he ran past, making his way toward the tower on their other side, Gladio clapped him on the shoulder. “ _Stay focused_ , Prompto.”

“I know!”

He managed to hit the second set of Magitek Troopers with his next couple of shots. With the soldiers gone, the three of them were alone outside the base. They approached the gate nearest them but could see no way around or through it.

“Now what do we do? It’s not like we can just blast it open,” Prompto said.

Ignis threw an arm out in front of him. “Get back!”

The three of them ducked out of sight, flattening themselves against the wall, and seconds later the gate began to open, setting loose another mob of soldiers. _They must have heard the shots and sent reinforcements._ As soon as the soldiers had passed them, Ignis abandoned their space in the shadows and slipped through the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the others following.

“So which way?” Gladio asked. They’d stopped behind what looked like a small control room, casting a shadow that kept them out of the remaining searchlights.

“Follow the path you and Noct took last time,” Ignis said. “Prompto, you’ll go that way, toward the cells. I’ll try to stay out of sight and find a route we haven’t taken.”

Prompto nodded. “Don’t get caught!” he said and disappeared around the corner of the building. Gladio went after him, leaving Ignis to decide which path might yield what they were looking for.

He checked the building near where they’d stopped, opening drawers and filing cabinets, but he found nothing of interest. Stepping back outside, he reassessed the area. A fence separated this space from the next, running almost the entire length of the base except where sections had been left out to allow soldiers to pass through. Ignis moved closer to the gap between one section of the fence and the next. He could see no soldiers, and though he didn’t doubt they were nearby, he crept forward into the shadows.

He made his way past towers and scaffolds and patches of light, ensuring he didn’t recognize any of the structures he saw, sneaking into buildings. He eliminated the soldiers inside when he had to and searched every desk, drawer, and box he could find, but still he discovered nothing. He checked his phone. Neither Gladio nor Prompto had called, and he’d heard nothing from Iris, though for that fact he was relieved. He’d told her only to call in an emergency. He hoped Noctis hadn’t woken to discover him gone.

_Noctis._ Ignis let his legs slide out from under him and slumped against the nearest wall. He couldn’t deny that his shoulder still felt stiff and his ribs ached, though the pain had dulled significantly, but he had to do this. He had to push past it, if only for Noctis. Noct, who lay half-conscious in a place too far away for Ignis to reach him. Noct, whose slight form Ignis wished only to take into his arms again. Who had begged him not to leave. Ignis buried his face in his hands.

His phone buzzed, cutting the moment short. He drew it from his pocket and held it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Ignis?” Prompto’s voice said. “Hey, I climbed a couple stairs and I think I can see some storage rooms. You might want to go for those.”

“All right. If you’d be so kind as to point me in the right direction . . .”

In the next few minutes, Prompto described the building he saw, naming landmarks in the surrounding area that might direct Ignis to it. Memorizing those details, Ignis thanked him and hung up. He rose to his feet and continued deeper into the base. A few narrow alleys later, he came to a more open space, where several military vehicles and several more labeled crates sat near the edges. Another building with a set of doors stood opposite Ignis—the one Prompto had spoken of. He was halfway across the concrete when he heard footsteps behind him, and he stopped to cast a glance over his shoulder.

The female mercenary stood several meters behind him, arms crossed over her chest, smirking. One hand had hold of the lance she’d been carrying the last time they’d encountered each other.

“So we meet again,” she said. “As I suspected.”

“What is it you want?” Ignis asked, his voice low. Every muscle in his body felt tense as he turned to face her, every instinct screaming. Noct. He had to protect Noct, at any cost.

“Well,” she said, glancing up at the sky as if she’d find the answer there, “I know you three want something of the Empire’s.” She made eye contact with Ignis, and he couldn’t help but think that her smirk resembled that of a daemon. “Think it’d be in my best interest to stop you here and leave you for dead.”

“Same to you.” Ignis’s daggers were in his hands before the thought to reach for them even entered his conscious mind.

“Huh.” She tossed her head. “ _This_ could be fun.”

They leaped at each other, weapons crossing in midair. Ignis tried to throw her back, but he still hadn’t recovered all of his strength and found himself far outmatched. She flung him backward, where he collided with the ground, the air sucked from his lungs. She strode toward him and held the tip of the lance to his throat.

“That was surprisingly easy,” she said.

He called a dagger to his hand and hurled it at her, forcing her to jump out of the way. Trying desperately to disregard the pain that flashed through his torso, he staggered to his feet and faced her again. The amused look had vanished from her face.

“So you actually mean it.” She snarled and flew at him, pushing him back with each blow. He brought weapons to his hands and sent them away, calling and then discarding knives and daggers and lances of his own, but no matter the weapon he still couldn’t seem to match her. He wished he’d had the chance to call Gladio or Prompto and let them know where he was. He needed backup, and badly.

They traded blows again, and their weapons sparked and glanced off each other while Ignis took several more steps backward. He tried to counter as the pain mounted in his chest and shoulder. Instead, he wound up with his back pressed against the wall of the building behind him.

The soldier slammed her lance into the wall directly next to his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching. He’d been inches away from losing his face. “Wonder where your comrades are,” she said in a low hiss. “Hope they’re not drowning in their own weakness like you.”

She shoved him to the ground and stepped back, her face a mask of disdain. “You’re a waste of my time. But we’ll see about your two friends.”

Before he could respond, she disappeared.

Ignis lay catching his breath for several moments, unable to comprehend what had just happened, unable to push past the renewed aches of his injuries. She’d threatened to leave him for dead, but neglected to kill him. Maybe she really thought he was too weak to kill. Or maybe she had other motives.

He glanced to his side and remembered the two doors next to him. Reaching up, he found the handle on the first door and pulled, but it didn’t give. He rose to his feet, calling a dagger back to his hands to pick the lock, yet instead of a traditional lock, they’d installed a keypad. _If something’s worth locking up,_ he’d heard Noctis say before, _it’s worth seeking out._

Dismissing the dagger, he clamped his hand down over the keypad and overloaded it with lightning magic. The small display on the keypad flickered and went dark, and the lock slid free with a click. Ignis shoved the door open.

The room was pitch-dark. He felt for a light switch on the wall near the door and flipped it, the lights that came on in response momentarily blinding him. When he was finally able to look around and take in the room he’d entered, he saw that it was stacked with crates, and he immediately began to check the contents of each.

His search yielded nothing. Most of the crates held weapons or ammunition, and others held pieces of armor. He found no healing supplies, no curatives. Frustration and fear sank their claws into his chest, and after looking over the crates a second time he moved to the room on the other side of the building.

_Noct,_ Ignis thought, _I’m coming back for you._ He blasted the keypad to bits with his magic and began to tear apart the room behind the door.

This. This was it. The room, probably having been left undisturbed for a long time, held the thick, distinct smell of curatives. There were crates stacked in its corners, too. The first set he opened held magic enhancers. Somewhere in this room he’d find antidotes, and he kept reminding himself of that every time he opened a crate and found useless potions or just empty space.

After what felt like an eternity, when his neck and shoulders ached from leaning over box after box, Ignis came across a locked crate in the corner. Someone had buried it under several other crates, probably in an attempt to keep it hidden. Yet the lock on it was easily bypassed with a few flicks of one of his daggers. He opened the lid and found several unidentified vials of liquid, resembling normal antidotes but slightly smaller, their color muted.

Pulling the cap off one of the vials, he examined the liquid inside. He could confirm it wasn’t poison—he’d studied those before, at least generally, and the color and scent of this substance were closer to that of curatives. He took a handful and shoved them into his pocket, praying they were truly what he’d come for, and shut and locked the lid on the crate. He fled the storage room feeling as though he were being watched again.

Drawing his phone from his pocket, Ignis pressed it against his ear and stepped back against the wall of the building he’d just left. He called Prompto first and had to wait until the fourth ring for him to pick up.

“Did you find it?” Prompto asked. “’Cause I think some soldiers found me, so I hid in a storage room. Getting out of here sounds really nice.”

“ _Prompto_ ,” Ignis began before deciding now wasn’t the time to admonish him. “Never mind. Yes, I’ve found it. Focus on escaping, at whatever cost.”

“Roger that.”

Ignis heard a click on the other end of the line as Prompto hung up. He checked the area around him for soldiers before calling Gladio.

“Iggy, what’s up?”

“I believe I’ve found the antidote,” Ignis said.

“Probably the only good news I’ve heard today.”

“Well, seeing as it’s around four-thirty in the morning . . .”

Gladio snorted. “A’ight, smartass. What’re the orders? Do we finally get to vacate the premises?”

“Yes, immediately.” Ignis drew in a sharp breath. “Ah. I neglected to mention that the soldier from last time is still here. I’d watch out for her, if I were you.”

“How d’you know she’s still around?”

“She . . . tried to kill me,” Ignis sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Provided we get out of here alive, I’ll give you the details later. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Same goes for you. You sure you don’t want me to take out that generator on my way to the gate?”

“Don’t. It’ll just draw attention to our presence, and it might bring the entire base down on us besides. I just told Prompto to slip out. We should all be able to meet up outside these walls.”

“If you say so. See you then.” He hung up.

Ignis paused to take a few deep breaths. When he thought he’d composed himself, he began to retrace his steps, crossing the lot full of vehicles and slipping through the spaces between buildings. He stuck to the shadows. The base felt eerily quiet, like something was lying in wait for him.

He caught sight of Prompto moving toward the base’s outer gate, staying on his toes, gun dangling from his fingertips. A heartbeat later, he sensed movement at the corner of his vision. Ignis glanced up to see an Imperial sniper crouching at the top of a building. His breath caught in his throat. If he dared alert Prompto, the soldier might shoot, but if he did nothing, he’d be giving the soldier more than enough time to prepare. He cursed himself inwardly and resisted the urge to summon daggers to his hands—he couldn’t afford to cast that unearthly blue light around him and draw attention to himself. Ah, what he wouldn’t give to be able to warp-strike the way Noctis did.

_Noctis._ The antidotes were heavy in his pocket. He was doing this for Noctis, and he’d be damned if he failed the prince again.

Ignis changed tack. He brought weapons to his hands, even making a show of letting one drop noisily to the ground. The Magitek Trooper hadn’t even brought the sights of its gun before its eyes, and it stopped to turn toward Ignis—as did Prompto. But now the sniper had shifted its target, and had the high ground. Ignis had tensed, preparing to run, when Prompto finally took advantage of the soldier’s distraction and fired a few shots that took it down.

“Took you _quite_ long enough, Prompto,” Ignis said.

“Sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck, not sounding at all apologetic. “Where’s Gladio?”

“I haven’t a clue, but he should be here shortly.”

Mere moments later, Gladio rounded a corner and moved through the shadows to join them. “Speak of the devil,” Prompto said with a grin.

“If anyone’s the devil, it’s you,” Gladio replied. “Are we getting out of here or what?”

“Yes. I don’t think any one of us wishes to remain here a second longer,” Ignis said. “This way. Opening the gate from the inside should be easier than breaking in from the outside.”

He found a keypad beside the door, tapped the buttons that looked the most likely to unlock the gate, and watched the light change from red to green. The gate began to open, and the three of them slipped through as soon as there was enough space for them to do so.

Outside, the three of them stopped to regroup. The base remained strangely silent behind them, despite the gates standing open and the droves of soldiers still inside. Ignis still felt as if he might look over his shoulder and find someone staring back at him.

“Where’s she gone . . . ?” he said under his breath.

“Who?” Prompto asked.

“That soldier. The one who accosted us on our first trip.”

“And tried to kill you not that long ago, right, Iggy?” Gladio crossed his arms over his chest.

Prompto’s eyes widened. “What?”

Ignis adjusted his glasses, agitated. “Indeed. I encountered her on my way to find the antidote. She seemed to know where I was going and attacked me, but claimed I was too weak and left before finishing the job. I’m quite surprised she didn’t come after either of you, to be perfectly honest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Prompto said.

“We shouldn’t waste another moment.” After a fleeting glance back at the base, Ignis started to walk in the direction of their makeshift parking spot. “We have to get back to Noct.”

“Don’t you think this is a little bit suspicious?” Prompto asked. “Like, what if they’re just waiting for us to walk to the car so they can drop soldiers on us or blow something up?”

“Standing around here certainly won’t help us,” Ignis said.

He felt no better in the driver’s seat of the Regalia, but he refused to stop moving now. He had the key in the ignition and his foot on the gas within moments, blatantly disregarding the speed limit as he pulled the car back onto the road. Prompto kept fidgeting, anxious, in the seat next to him, but he could keep his attention only on thoughts of Noctis.

“Hey, Ignis?” After a few minutes of tense silence, Prompto finally spoke up. “You want to hand me the antidotes, just in case?”

“Of course.” Ignis drew the vials from his pocket and offered them across the console to Prompto, all without taking his eyes off the road. “Are they satisfactory?”

Prompto studied them for a moment, turning each one over and over in his hand. “I think so,” he said. “They _look_ like antidotes.”

“They were locked up.” Ignis’s eyes flicked to the dash, wondering how many miles were left between him and Noctis. “Unless it’s a very elaborate diversion, both of those facts lead me to believe this is what we’re looking for.”

“I just don’t understand why that soldier decided not to kill you,” Gladio said from the backseat.

Ignis shook his head. “Well, you have my thanks for the vote of confidence, Gladio.”

“And I don’t know if you’ve looked in a mirror lately, Iggy, but you ain’t looking so great. It’s pretty obvious you’re still injured.”

“Hmm.”

Beside him, Prompto had both of his hands clenched around the vials of medicine, his knuckles practically white. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but Ignis? I definitely think I just saw something moving around in the shadows back there.”

“If we do encounter daemons,” Ignis said, “I’m afraid my only option is to drive faster.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“As do I.”

Prompto twisted to look at him. “Really? Didn’t think you were one to rely on bad feelings.”

“I’m not. Yet I feel that there’s something we’ve missed, and I can’t be sure what it is. The fact that they’ve let us get away with the antidote is . . . most unusual.”

“True. There’s something not right about it,” Gladio said.

The three of them fell silent for the rest of the drive, keeping eyes out for shadows that lurked beyond the road. The safe haven wasn’t far, though, and they faced no trouble on the way back there. They parked the car just outside the site. Ignis wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but the sound stayed trapped in his chest. He couldn’t relax, not until he’d seen Noct and knew he was safe.

Iris emerged from their tent at the sound of the engine and ran to greet them. “Did you guys find the medicine?” she asked. Ignis didn’t miss the urgency in her voice.

“Is Noct all right?” he returned without answering her question.

“He’s . . . he’s asleep,” Iris said. “I think he’ll pull through, if you guys have what he needs.”

“Has he woken at all?”

Iris looked at the ground. “Yes. He asked for you. I told him you’d be back.”

Guilt tore through Ignis. He crossed to the tent and ducked through the flap to kneel beside Noctis, who was still trapped in the realm of sleep. His face was flushed, set in a distant expression of pain, and his breathing was shallow. Ignis reached into his pocket for the vials of medicine only to remember that he’d given them to Prompto. But the others were behind him a heartbeat later, Prompto holding onto the vials while Ignis reached out to gently nudge Noctis awake.

The prince’s blue eyes opened, and he drew in a deep breath, like he’d been underwater for the last several minutes. He looked to Ignis first.

Ignis ached to hold Noct the way he had hours ago, to pull him into the protective circle of his arms, to feel Noctis’s feverish body close to his. But with Iris, Gladio, and Prompto there, he knew he’d have to maintain his distance.

Noct’s lips moved as though he meant to form words, but as soon as he tried, he fell into a fit of coughing. Prompto passed the vials to Ignis, nearly dropping them in his haste. Ignis opened the first and set the others on the ground.

“Noct.” Ignis felt hyperaware of every movement of his hands. He held out the vial first, waiting until Noctis’s eyes focused on it. “I’m going to need you to drink this.”

Noctis shook his head, closing his eyes. Even that small, simple motion looked like it was too much for him. He tried to speak again, and though no sound passed his lips, Ignis could’ve sworn he saw him mouth the words “Let me sleep.”

“I can’t, Noct.” Ignis’s voice was little more than a whisper. He wasn’t even sure the others could hear him. Hesitating only a moment more, he reached out to Noctis, one hand sliding to the back of his neck to support his head. He raised the vial to Noct’s lips. Though his brows pulled together and he made a small sound of discomfort in the back of his throat, Noctis didn’t resist further. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Noctis lay back again, and Ignis moved a hand to his shoulder, hoping the contact would keep him anchored. After several moments, the tension left his expression, his breathing deepened, and he relaxed. Not knowing whether the medicine had cleansed the toxins from his system or the poison had taken its final effects, Ignis leaned forward and shook Noctis’s shoulders.

“Noct,” he said, his voice growing louder with each heartbeat that passed. “Noctis!”

Those blue eyes were trained on him again. Ignis released a shuddering breath of relief and sat back. “How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low.

Noctis shifted, turning his hands over and staring at his palms as though unsure what to make of them.

“I . . . feel okay.” He blinked. “What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?” Ignis asked, panic rising in his chest again. He fought it back. This was one feeling he knew he had control over. “What don’t you remember?”

“I just remember trying to get out of that base,” Noctis said. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

Ignis sighed, half with relief, half with exasperation. “That’s because you were unconscious. Or barely conscious.” _Do you remember asking me not to let go? What about insisting that I let you die?_ he wanted to ask, but he smothered the fear and anger that flared with those two questions until they burned no hotter than embers.

“Oh.” Noctis rubbed his eyes. “I’m still so tired.”

“We should all probably get some rest,” Iris said softly. “It’s late. You guys haven’t had a chance to sleep.”

“Yes, but we need to decide what we’ll do come morning,” Ignis said. “The Empire may still be tracking us. They could have an ambush planned for as soon as we’re off guard.”

“If they wanted to ambush you, they could’ve done it when you walked into that base,” Iris replied. “Or any time after that. But they didn’t. We can wait until morning to decide where to go.”

“Gladio? Prompto?” Ignis looked to the other two, but they had no objections. “If you insist.”

Later, Ignis took up his spot beside Noct and lay still in the darkness. He half wanted to go out, to sit in the driver’s seat of the Regalia and be alone with his own thoughts, but he knew he couldn’t. His whole body ached, and he felt like he might collapse from exhaustion. His last thought was that he wished he could hold Noct as he fell asleep, even as he reminded himself that was a luxury he would never have.

 

* * *

 

At dawn he woke from what he would later admit to himself was a nightmare, one in which he stood at the edge of a bottomless dark chasm, Noctis before him. Ignis reached out, and Noctis took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Noct looked at him for a moment. His blue eyes were full of some unidentifiable emotion.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, giving in, falling into darkness. And though Ignis called out his name and fought to keep hold of his hand, he kept falling, kept fading, until he was barely more than a distant light. Ignis’s voice, hoarse from shouting, left him. He found himself completely alone.

His throat felt sore when he returned to consciousness, and he could only hope he hadn’t really been calling Noct’s name in his sleep.

Despite the fact that the sun had barely begun to shed its light, and that he was still exhausted after sleeping only a couple of hours, Ignis decided to get up. Before he left, he turned to where Noctis slept and checked to make sure he was still breathing, which he was indeed. He laid a hand on Noctis’s forehead to see if his fever had truly broken, and the prince of Lucis stirred slightly in his sleep. He was fine. The antidotes had—miraculously—done their work.

Not to mention that, undeniably, Noctis was beautiful when he slept. This wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed Ignis’s mind, and in response to it he turned away and stepped outside. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in those thoughts anymore.

 

* * *

 

“We should have been in Caem days ago.”

The four of them—Ignis, Gladio, Prompto, and Iris—stood around the Regalia, having prepared to discuss their plans for the next few days. It was Gladio who’d brought up the timing.

“Yeah, but they’re not expecting you in Altissia anymore, so we can take our time,” Iris pointed out. “Just as long as we make it there.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ignis said. “If we fail to reach Altissia within a reasonable period of time . . . a number of things could go wrong.”

Iris rested a hand on her hip. “The Empire just tried to poison Noct. I think the worst that could happen is us not giving him enough time to rest.”

Ignis said nothing. Of course he wanted to give Noctis time to rest. He’d give Noctis all the time in the world, if he had it. But the Empire hadn’t ceased to pursue them yet, and he worried that they might catch up if the five of them hung back in Lucis too long.

“I think we should go back to Lestallum first,” Gladio said. “We can stop there and reassess where we’re at.”

“Are you sure?” Ignis asked. “What about the Imperial occupation?”

“We can keep a low profile.”

“Somehow I think delivering ourselves into the hands of the Empire wouldn’t be the best idea, considering our recent history of trying to escape them.” Ignis cast a sideways glance at Gladio.

“They won’t be looking for us anymore,” Gladio said. “We’ve been out in the open for some time now, and attacking military bases besides. Might be easier to hide right where they’re casting a shadow, if you know what I mean. Besides, we need what Lestallum has—places to stop and rest and to get supplies.”

“Iris?”

She looked uncomfortable, her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Well . . . I can’t say I want to go back there, but the soldiers mostly left after they . . . after what happened to Jared. They came around looking for Noct, and when they didn’t find him . . . I think they just wanted to scare us.”

“What happened to Jared was a warning,” Ignis said. “They’d have no problem throwing away our lives as well to get what they want.”

“But if they’ve already been through Lestallum and didn’t find Noct there, why would they come back?” Gladio asked. “It’ll only be for one day. I think we’ll be fine. And if not, we can always fight.”

Ignis closed his eyes and sighed. Gladio had a point, but it still felt like a risk. Then again, they’d raided Imperial military bases and come out of it alive—compared to that, slipping in and out of Lestallum would be easy.

“All right, but we’ll have to keep a low profile. We should time our arrival so that we have the cover of darkness on our side.” Ignis reached for the handle of the driver’s door, then stopped. “Who wants to wake Noct?”

Prompto, leaning against the back of the car, grinned. “You do, Iggy.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“You just seem so agreeable this morning,” Prompto said. “Doesn’t he, Gladio?” In response to this, Gladio snorted. “Besides, I’m not doing it.”

“All _right_ ,” Ignis conceded, turning his back on them and walking toward the tent where Noctis slept. If he were honest with himself, he did want to be there when Noctis woke, but he would never let on.

When he’d reached Noctis’s side, he drew in a breath. Noct was still lost in deep, apparently dreamless sleep, so different from the agonized half-consciousness Ignis had found him in when the poison had taken effect. He wondered if Noctis had really forgotten all that he’d said when they were alone.

“Noct.” The prince’s name slipped out before he meant it to. He’d wanted to stay a few more moments in that silence, but . . . He reached out to put a hand on Noctis’s arm.

Noctis shifted. “Gimme five more minutes,” he murmured, twisting to face away from Ignis.

“The others will think I’m indulging you.”

“So?”

“So I’m not supposed to do that anymore,” Ignis said. “Noct. I need to ask you something.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“Noct, please.”

With a muffled sound of protest, Noctis finally gave in and sat up, blinking at Ignis as if he were shining a light in his eyes. His hair was mussed, his eyes bleary from sleep. His appearance was far from presentable, yet, Ignis thought, there was something endearing about it. He wanted to press a hand to Noct’s cheek. The space between them was suddenly unbearable.

“What do you want?”

Ignis drew breath to speak and found himself at a loss for words. “Do you remember what you said to me when you woke up?” he finally asked.

“No,” Noctis said, his brows knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Before we left for the base, you told me not to leave you.” Ignis’s voice fell nearly to a whisper. “Noct, you were hysterical. You almost wouldn’t let me go. But I had to, and I . . . I should have stayed. I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Noctis asked. “You went all the way back to that base to get me medicine. Don’t be sorry, Ignis. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So you don’t remember?”

Noctis hesitated. “Um—kind of. Not very well.” He stared down at his hands.

Ignis looked away. He hadn’t forgotten everything, which meant what he’d recalled was probably the clinging, the crying. His tears soaking into Ignis’s shirt and his hands curled around the fabric of his jacket. He’d shattered and Ignis had left him to pick up the pieces on his own.

“I—” Ignis paused, still unsure what to say. “I’m glad you’re well.”

A few heartbeats passed. “So am I,” Noctis finally said without looking up. “Guess I really have you to thank for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

Noctis glanced up, and his intense sapphire-blue eyes locked with Ignis’s. Ignis felt the breath freeze in his lungs. Noct had never gazed at him that way before, and oh, how he wanted to lean closer. But what if he misinterpreted, if he was wrong, if he made a move and Noct rejected him? No, he’d gone too far. He broke eye contact and shifted backward slightly.

“Noct, you should get up. The others are waiting.”

“Wait. Ignis.”

He couldn’t do this. It was too much. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

Despite Noctis’s further protests, Ignis left him and stepped out. His heart rate was in the stratosphere. Not good. He needed to calm down if he wanted to be able to drive like a sane person.

He walked to the Regalia, where the others waited, and set his face in an expression of neutrality. When he told them Noctis was on his way, he only saw concern in the look that Iris returned. Prompto and Gladio nodded and said they hoped they wouldn’t have to wait long.

Minutes later, he was in the driver’s seat again, his grip on the wheel barely concealing the shaking in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize for the fact that more of these scenes took place in an Imperial base. . . . But we're officially done with that now ;)


	6. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_   
>  _I never knew daylight could be so violent...._   
>  _And I'd do anything to make you stay_   
>  _Tell me what you want me to say"_   
>  [\- Florence + the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cun2trxHyuM)
> 
> In terms of music from the OST: ["Somnus"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUKkXAuo-mQ&list=PLu2-bIFUJI4gcWHMM8nJ-OgY21oGF0kSv) for this chapter. (The [piano](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gFslcQNsBg) version is really good too.)  
> Thanks for reading this far! And for all the kudos and comments, too :)

Late in the afternoon, they stopped at another safe haven. Ignis, claiming he doubted they’d make it to Lestallum at a reasonable hour, pulled over when they passed a site marked with runes. But Noctis didn’t miss the moment when he staggered as he got out of the car, and neither did Gladio. He’d circled the vehicle in a few paces.

“You’re exhausted,” Gladio observed, frowning.

Ignis brushed him off. “No, I’m all right.”

“We’ve talked about this. You really shouldn’t be driving, if you haven’t slept enough. One of us can take over for you. Just ask.”

“It’s Noct we should be worried about.” Ignis turned to face Noctis, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Noct, if you’re feeling up to it, I was thinking we should train, to recover our strength.”

“Um, guys, if you don’t mind me saying? I don’t know if now’s the time for that,” Prompto said, standing on the other side of the car. “You probably still have a while before you’re fully recovered. Besides, if we time everything right when we get to Lestallum, we won’t have to deal with combat at all.”

“There’s still a chance.” Ignis looked to Noctis—almost—and added, “But if you don’t have the energy for it, I understand.”

Noctis pushed open the car door and stepped out. His legs protested against each motion, but he ignored them. He wouldn’t lose to this, wouldn’t let them think of him as dead weight. “No, I want to try.”

“Suit yourselves,” Gladio said.

“You wanna join?” Noctis asked him.

He scoffed. “I wouldn’t want to kill anyone.”

He went to work dragging their gear out of the car while Noctis and Ignis walked to the open space outlined by runes. Iris sat just outside the space where they planned to spar, and after a minute of wavering, Prompto agreed to help Gladio out with the supplies.

Noctis faced Ignis from where he stood several paces back. He took a slow breath and assessed how he felt: apart from the heavy, omnipresent fatigue, there wasn’t much pain, even in his ribs. Except for the wound in his side they’d inflicted when they’d poisoned him. For some reason that one hurt like hell.

“Are you ready, Noct?” Ignis asked. He had drawn no weapons, but from the tension wired throughout his posture, Noctis could tell they were close at hand. He started to reach for his own sword, but paused.

“Shouldn’t we set some rules or something?” he asked. “Like, don’t go all out?”

“I suppose,” Ignis said. “And don’t aim for the ribs.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“On your mark, then.”

Noctis gave them both a few seconds before signaling the start of the fight. When he did, Ignis’s daggers flashed immediately into his hands. He looked as though he were about to advance, but the array of royal arms appeared and circled Noctis and he paused with a slight, embarrassed smile.

“I fear I’m already outmatched,” he said.

“Don’t know about that.” Noctis let go of the royal arms and called up his engine blade instead, making a too-obvious swipe at Ignis’s legs that Ignis easily blocked.

“You can do better than that, Noct,” Ignis said, unleashing a flurry of blows. Noctis found himself struggling to keep up, but he knew once he found the rhythm of combat again he’d be fine. He focused on Ignis’s hands, on the blades, on the patterns that the strikes made up.

And for just a moment his thoughts drifted.

He remembered waking up from that feverish nightmare the Empire’s poison had sent him into, wondering where he was, finding Ignis at his side. He remembered a sudden, irrational fear that Ignis would leave him and that he’d be alone again, alone and wasting away to nothing. And when Ignis had held him, let him cry, let the warmth of their bodies bleed together, he’d felt . . .

Noctis was shaken from his thoughts when he found himself flat on his back.

“Noct?” Ignis stood over him, looking concerned. “Are you all right?”

“I’m good.” Noctis sat up. His weapon wasn’t on the ground anywhere near him, he noticed. He must’ve accidentally released it when he fell. “I spaced out for a minute there.”

Ignis offered him a hand and, when Noctis took it, pulled him to his feet. “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

“No,” Noctis said. “I just wasn’t paying attention.” He called his sword back to his hand, and with what sounded like a resigned sigh, Ignis moved a few steps away to ready his own weapons.

Iris spoke up from the sidelines. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Noct.”

Noctis didn’t respond. He tried to make himself focus again, but every time he parried one of Ignis’s strikes he was just a little too slow. And every time he attempted to concentrate on the arcs of each of their weapons, his attention wandered to Ignis’s hands again, remembering how those hands had felt tracing his shoulders and spine. Why the hell was he so distracted?

He put renewed effort into watching the patterns of the fight and poured his energy into each of his attacks. When he spotted an opening, he moved in. Ignis still saw him coming and blocked, but Noctis twisted out of the way and slammed the hilt of his sword backward. He felt rather than saw the end of the weapon make contact. He was about to prepare for his next attack, but Ignis cried out and hit the ground, his two daggers vanishing in showers of blue sparks.

Noctis froze. “What is it?”

“You,” Ignis said through his teeth, looking up at Noctis with a pained smile, “caught me in the ribs.”

“Shit.” Noctis dropped his weapon and knelt beside him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Noct, if we’re going to do this, you have to concentrate,” Ignis said with a sigh. “Fighting distracted won’t get you anywhere in a true battle.”

“I know.”

Ignis cast a glance back at Gladio and Prompto, who were facing the Regalia and likely hadn’t seen the whole episode. “Shall we try again?”

“Are your ribs okay?” Noctis asked, studying him. He didn’t know the extent of Ignis’s injuries, since he’d spent most of their time at the clinic unconscious, but he didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t heal.

“As long as you don’t hit them again,” Ignis said, rising to his feet, “they should be fine. On your feet.”

“Yes, sir,” Noctis said with a smirk.

The light began to leave the sky, and as the hours passed, the two of them fought with gradually regained skill and grace. Prompto, Gladio, and Iris sat in chairs a short distance away from them and carried on mostly quiet conversation. Noctis knew they’d have to stop soon so they could eat, but he’d finally figured out how to let thoughts like those fade into the background. With each match he pushed them aside.

Except, of course, when he couldn’t.

Once, during a particularly competitive round, the two of them were on the verge of breaking their own rule about not going all out. Ignis would launch a volley of strikes, and Noctis would hit back harder, and so it went. Yet just when Noctis thought he’d gained the upper hand, Ignis used his momentum against him, sweeping out one of his feet and effectively tripping him. Noctis lost his balance, releasing his weapon in the process, and fell into Ignis for just a heartbeat, his shoulder colliding with Ignis’s chest. Ignis reached out to catch his arm. He lost his grip, and Noctis crashed into the ground.

“Noct!” Ignis quickly cast his weapons away, letting them vanish. “My apologies.”

“It’s . . . fine,” Noctis said, brushing himself off. His hands and knees still throbbed slightly from hitting the ground, and the knife wound had responded with sharp pain of its own. But the sensation of having his body pressed against Ignis’s, even for that half second, overshadowed them both. He drew in a deep breath, recalling the heat, the steadiness, of Ignis’s body. And for a moment, he allowed himself to want—

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ignis asked, and Noctis realized he’d closed his eyes.

“I’m tired,” he said. “We should stop.”

“Yes. I think we’ve made progress.” Ignis’s eyes drifted to the horizon. “Besides, it’s rather dark.”

“Sleep sounds pretty nice,” Noctis added.

Ignis glanced at him, the ghost of an _I-know-you-too-well_ smile on his lips, and warmth flared in Noctis’s cheeks. He had the space of a heartbeat to hope he wasn’t actually blushing before he looked away.

What was _wrong_ with him? It wasn’t as if he’d never had thoughts like these before, but he’d written them off as symptoms of whatever toxin the Empire had used on him. If that had really been the case, they would have disappeared by now, yet he still felt the same as he had, craving the comfort of Ignis’s warmth.

Noctis had wanted to say something, before. _Wait, Ignis._ He’d wanted to explain to Ignis what he’d been thinking when he’d collapsed that last night and pleaded with him not to leave, how he might’ve mistaken those thoughts for need, how they had probably only been an effect of the poison still in his system. But Ignis had looked uncomfortable even then. _You should get up. I’ll be outside when you’re ready._ And now that Noctis realized things were different, that he still hadn’t managed to let go of those feelings . . .

He couldn’t say a word. Not one damn word. Not unless he wanted to ruin everything.

Later, after the five of them had reconvened and eaten a meal and were sitting in chairs around the fire, Iris finally decided to ask about their training session. Noctis had just allowed himself to drift off, tipping his head to one side and closing his eyes. Iris tapped his chair with her foot to keep him from falling asleep. “Noct, Ignis, how was training?”

“Could have gone better,” Ignis said. “But considering the circumstances, I think we accomplished enough.”

“No further injuries?” Gladio asked, smirking.

 _Ignis’s ribs,_ Noctis thought. But with no trace of emotion on his face, Ignis said, “None.”

“That’s good. ’Cause you two still look pretty rough regardless.”

“Aww, cut them some slack, Gladio,” Prompto said. “We had it easy compared to them.” In response, Gladio looked sideways at him, only a few degrees away from threatening. “Seriously. We only had to deal with a few Imperial soldiers, and they had ships. And the car.”

“Let’s not talk about the car.” Ignis closed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Noctis realized too late he was studying the well-defined profile of his face, outlined by the flickering firelight.

Noctis stood up. “I’m going to sleep,” he said in a voice weighted down by drowsiness. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Noct, everything all right?” Ignis called after him.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

He ducked into the tent, sighing as the quiet darkness welcomed him. He’d thank the gods for the peace if it weren’t for the chaos of his own thoughts.

Wishing he could dismiss the confusion in his head, Noctis crawled to the corner of the tent and curled up on his side. He wanted sleep—he was so tired after all that training. But he doubted he’d be able to lose himself to sleep tonight. If he could only stop thinking about what had happened with Ignis, everything would be back to normal and he could actually close his eyes.

Every time he tried, he thought of that night: the tear tracks on his face, the fabric of Ignis’s shirt against his cheek and the muscles of his chest, the absence of sound and the fear that never abated. And the pain. He couldn’t think of all of that without the pain, though the memory of it was gradually fading.

Noctis had been so desperate. He’d thought he was dying, and he’d thought that was the reason. But maybe that attachment had come first, and the distress had brought it out.

And what if he didn’t manage to fall asleep before Ignis came back? He threw an arm over his eyes and groaned. No way he’d be getting any sleep then, despite the fact that sleep was at the top of his list of priorities.

He still hadn’t done more than drift off when someone else slipped into the darkness of the tent a while later. Noctis didn’t know what time it was, but he felt as if he’d been lying awake an hour. Or more. He stayed facing the wall, his eyes closed, maintaining the pretense of sleep, but stiffened when he felt someone else lie down not far from him.

A few moments passed in which Noctis detected only slight sounds of movement. But before long he heard his name spoken in a whisper, soft and accented and almost too light to be detectable. He pulled in his shoulders, moving away from the source, but in response he felt the gentle touch of a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Noct, I know you’re awake.”

After a second of hesitation, Noctis rolled over to face Ignis, who had sat up beside him. “First you wake me up at the crack of dawn, now you wake me up in the middle of the night.”

Even in the darkness he could see that the look on Ignis’s face meant he had several things to say about that. He settled on, “I could tell you weren’t asleep.”

“So?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” Noctis said. “Just . . . haven’t been able to fall asleep yet.”

Ignis shook his head. “I’d accept that, were it anyone else.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever you need to. If something’s keeping you awake, you can talk to me about it,” Ignis said. “It might help. Or so I’ve heard.”

Noctis allowed himself to imagine that conversation for a brief moment. _Oh, so you wanna know what’s been keeping me awake? Because it’s the fact that I want your arms around me when I fall asleep. Nothing unusual or embarrassing about that._ There wasn’t a chance in hell of that going over well. “No, it won’t.”

“If you insist.” Ignis shifted, lying down with his back to Noctis, and Noctis turned so that he faced the wall again.

He heard the others come in not long later, and the whispered conversations that followed. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he did hear Ignis’s voice join Gladio’s and Prompto’s. Noctis wished he were already asleep.

After the three of them had quieted and the whispered tones of their voices given way to silence, Noctis considered leaving. Wasn’t that what Ignis had done before? Left in the middle of the night, even taking the Regalia with him? But in doing so he’d practically started a war, Noctis reminded himself, and closed his eyes again.

Maybe he was making all of this up. Maybe not all of the symptoms had worn off yet, and these feelings, the insecurity and confusion, would be gone in the morning, leaving him to wonder what he’d ever had to worry about. Or maybe they wouldn’t.

His friends had always tried so hard to protect him, and he could never say they’d done a poor job. At every turn they’d been the ones looking out for him, advising him, taking bullets for him.

But there would always be one thing they couldn’t protect Noctis from: himself.

 

* * *

 

He woke up late the next day, and the others let him. He thought at first it was a thoughtful—maybe apologetic—gesture, but after that he realized it was probably because they were halfway to Lestallum and couldn’t reach the city until darkness had fallen. Either way, Noctis needed the time alone.

Eventually Ignis pulled back the tent flap and informed Noctis that it was past one in the afternoon. Noctis waited until he’d left to attempt getting out of bed. He stepped outside to find that it had begun to rain.

“What the hell . . .” he said, holding a hand out and watching raindrops appear against his skin.

“Noct, your jacket.” Ignis was at his side, holding Noctis’s jacket out for him to take.

“Where did you get that?”

“You left it beside you last night. We moved it to the car earlier with most of the other gear and equipment,” Ignis said. “Here. Wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”

Noctis closed his hand around the fabric, careful not to let their hands touch. “Yeah, guess not.” Turning away, he slid his arms through the sleeves and settled the jacket over his shoulders. “Is it time to go?”

“Just about. Wait in the car. We’ll be there shortly.”

When he reached the Regalia, he found Iris standing next to it, smiling faintly at him. “Sleep well?”

Noctis responded with a noncommittal noise. He opened the car door and sank into his usual seat in the back.

In the car, it was darker and quieter, the only sound that of the rain tapping on the roof. Noctis leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes. Now that he’d finally managed to find sleep, he didn’t want to leave it.

Car doors opened, and he heard the others slide into the car, the keys in the ignition. A palm made contact with his shoulder. Noctis opened one eye to see Ignis leaning around the driver’s seat.

“What?”

“When we get to Lestallum, I want to see you awake and alert, is that clear?” Ignis asked. “If we run into any trouble, you’ll need to be paying full attention.”

Noctis wanted to roll his eyes and ask Ignis how much his ribs hurt this morning. But he knew that would only provoke questions from the others, and probably Gladio’s wrath besides. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Just wake me up when we get there.”

He wasn’t really in the mood to face Ignis today. Or reality. He wanted to go back to sleep and pretend none of this was happening.

But Ignis wasn’t about to let him go that easily. “Noct.”

“You were asleep for more than twelve hours,” Gladio said from across the car.

“And I’m still _tired_. Did you guys already forget that I’ve had poison running in my blood for the past few days? You think I’m just going to magically recover because Ignis got the antidote?” Noctis snapped. “I feel like shit and I wanna sleep. Leave me alone for once.”

“No, I think it’s time you woke the fuck up,” Gladio said. “You’ve been hiding in your goddamn self-pity for weeks now. Would it kill you to figure out how to move on?”

Noctis sucked in a breath through his teeth and shoved the car door open, stepping outside into the rain. He regretted it almost instantly, as the raindrops spattered his skin and dampened his hair, but he couldn’t sit in that car with the three of them lecturing him for hours on end. He wouldn’t.

“Noct, wait. Come back,” he heard Prompto say.

“Why should I?” Noctis felt his hands curl into fists at his sides. “You three obviously have your own agenda. I’ll just leave you to it. Why should I continue to hang around like dead weight?”

“You’re not—” Prompto began.

“This is exactly what I’ve been talking about,” Gladio said, interrupting him. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a damn child. Why the hell does everything have to be such a big deal with you?”

“Maybe you need to get over yourself,” Noctis said, his voice rising with every word, “and understand that everything doesn’t come easy for some of us like it does for you. I am _trying_ , okay? But it’s hard. And every time you come at me like this, I just feel more worthless. I am sick of feeling worthless!”

“Noctis,” Ignis warned. He pushed the driver’s door open and stepped out.

“Don’t come near me!” Noctis said, backing away.

Prompto was out of the front passenger seat in a heartbeat. “Noct, please, don’t do this. This isn’t like you,” he said, starting to circle the car to move toward Noctis. The back door opened before he could get far, smacking him in the hip and blocking his path. He stumbled backward.

Ignis, on the other hand, was keeping up, though keeping his distance. He never broke eye contact with Noctis, and his steps were cautious, matching Noctis’s pace carefully. Noctis wanted to just turn and run, but he knew Ignis would still follow him. Ignis had longer legs than he did anyway.

“Noct,” Ignis said, his voice soft. “Two days ago you told me not to let go, and I sure won’t be doing it now.”

“I don’t even remember saying that,” Noctis said. His own voice came out little more than a low growl.

“Perhaps not.” He stepped closer, moving so slowly, with that same lithe grace that he had during training. Every movement he made with those long legs was so certain. _Not the time,_ Noctis told himself, _not the time._ “But I heard you say it all the same.”

“I just want to be alone.” Noctis crossed his arms over his chest to try to calm the sudden bout of shivering that had taken over his body. Even his voice shook. “Nobody would even notice if I was gone. They all think I’m dead anyway.”

Ignis shook his head. “Not true. The four of us would notice. Your loss would wound us more than you can know.” He must have seen something in Noctis’s face, because he added, “We would . . . miss you.”

Noctis realized that he’d stopped moving, that Ignis was now within arm’s reach of him. He extended a hand, his gloved fingertips brushing against Noctis’s shoulder before Noctis twisted away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Noct.”

He registered too late the expression of sheer pain on Ignis’s face. At first the realization that he must’ve hurt Ignis made him pause, but the desire to push away was greater. Besides, he wouldn’t want Ignis to discover the thoughts he’d had about him in the last few days, would he? Noctis took another few steps back, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, but righting himself at the last moment.

“You know Gladio doesn’t say those things to make you feel worthless.”

“What does he think he’s going to accomplish? It’s not like I asked to be the Prince of Lucis,” Noctis said. He realized that in addition to the cold raindrops sliding down his face, there were hot tears, too. He only hoped Ignis couldn’t tell. _Listen to yourself. You sound like a damn child._

“No, of course not,” Ignis said, gently. “He just wants you to accept what you can’t change. And we’ll be there for you, whether you ask us to be or not.”

He reached out and brushed tears and rain from Noctis’s cheek with a thumb. This time Noctis couldn’t find the strength to pull away, and the simple contact between them made him feel like something was splintering in his chest.

Noctis fell to his knees and cried. This time there was no delirium, no fever, nothing to explain it except him and this neverending darkness inside him. The self-doubt, the worthlessness, the fear—all those things he could never escape and never let show. Suddenly he was overflowing with them and he couldn’t stop.

But Ignis knelt beside him, slipping his arms around Noctis and pulling him close. He didn’t say a word. Noctis pressed even closer, wanting to feel the heat of him against the chill of the pouring rain. If only he could hide from all of this forever. If only he could find some way to forget, to stop time while he stayed in Ignis’s arms.

“Can you stand for me?” Ignis whispered finally, when Noctis’s crying had subsided somewhat and he’d calmed down enough to breathe. Noctis nodded, swiping at his eyes, and Ignis helped him slowly to his feet. “Can you walk?”

When Noctis agreed to this too, Ignis began to lead him carefully in the direction of the car. He kept a hand on the small of Noctis’s back, warning him that they’d need to return to the others. Noctis was too tired to resist.

Minutes later, he was sitting in the back of the Regalia again, a towel around his shoulders to keep the rain on his jacket from dripping too much into the leather seats. He leaned against the door and listened to the rain and the road pass by. No one said anything.

Noctis fell asleep while the sun still cast weak light around them, and he didn’t wake up until the darkness had become near absolute. The sensation was disconcerting at best. Nothing had changed except the light—the road still stretched out ahead of them, Ignis drove, and silence filled the car.

“You up, Noct?” Prompto asked from the front of the car.

“I guess so.” Noctis rubbed his eyes. He didn’t feel “up” in any sense of the word.

“We’re nearly to Lestallum,” Ignis said. “I’m going to park outside the city so that there’s less of a chance of our car being recognized, though that means we’ll have to do some walking.”

“Aww, seriously?” Prompto said. In response, Ignis sighed.

They knew they’d reached Lestallum when the city’s lights greeted them. Ignis kept the car moving at a reasonable speed as he passed the entrance, the parking lot, and the gas station. Another section of dark road enveloped them until they reached the next parking spot, marked by a massive floodlight that stood over the road.

“We have to walk back all the way from here?” Prompto said as they got out of the car, looking back at the road.

“If we want to keep a low profile, yes.” Ignis shut the driver’s door behind him.

“Anyone want to carry me there?” Noctis asked, dragging himself to his feet.

“Noct, I understand you’re tired, but you’ll walk,” Ignis said. He led the group out into the dark road.

They saw no one on the road, given the late hour of the night. Though Prompto looked nervous, drawing his gun in a conspicuous flash of blue light every time he saw a mildly suspicious shadow, they encountered no daemons, either. None of them spoke, so as not to draw any unwanted attention.

Once again they neared Lestallum and the safety of its light. Noctis heard Prompto breathe an audible sigh of relief once they were within its limits and had set foot on its streets. Though the Imperial banners still swayed slightly on the outer walls of buildings, they didn’t see soldiers anywhere, and there were people outside, walking the streets, talking, playing music. Noctis found himself scanning faces, looking for any signs that people were watching them, but most looked oblivious. Maybe the soldiers really had abandoned the place after discovering the Prince of Lucis wasn’t in hiding there.

They arrived at the doorstep of the Leville, where they’d met Iris so long ago, and crossed the threshold into the hotel’s cooler atmosphere. Ignis and Gladio attempted to block Noctis from view as they approached the man at the front desk to ask for rooms. Noctis heard the man agree without hesitation, and he hoped it wasn’t just another ploy to sell them out to the Empire.

But he heard Ignis placing money on the counter and adding under his breath, “For silence.” The man at the counter raised no protest.

Ignis turned to the rest of them, briefly holding up the keys, and they ascended the stairs. None of them said anything until they’d closed the door behind them.

Prompto sank onto the nearest bed and sighed. “So, we made it.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said.

He handed Iris one of the keys. She hesitated, but left the room a second later, stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door closed again. Noctis moved to the far bed, lay down, and rolled onto his side, closing his eyes.

“Noct, you slept almost the entire day,” Prompto said from the other side of the room. “Don’t tell me you’re still tired.”

Gladio smirked. “His Highness could sleep for ten years and still be tired.”

“Shut up,” Noctis said, his voice muffled.

“C’mon, Noct, don’t you want to do something? Like play video games?” Prompto asked.

“Not really in the mood.”

“You sure?”

“Let him be, Prompto,” Ignis said. “He’s still recovering.”

Silence enveloped the room, thick and heavy. Noctis sensed that they were all thinking about the events of that afternoon. The cold spattering rain, the threats that had flown between them like daggers, the tears that had burned his cheeks. The way Ignis had held him, despite everything, and shielded him against the rain. He wasn’t sure exactly how much the others had seen, but he was fairly certain they hadn’t missed that.

Not that they would think anything of it. If there was a positive side to this whole situation, it was that they’d probably attribute his behavior to his slow recovery rather than to anything else.

“Well, if no one has any objections, I think I’ll go shower,” Prompto said, sliding off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

“I’m going to see how Iris is doing.” Gladio turned toward the door. “I’ll be back in a minute, Ignis. Keep an eye on him.” Noctis waved a dismissive hand at him over his shoulder.

He heard the click of the door closing and the background hiss of the shower, and moments later he felt the mattress shift as Ignis lowered himself onto the bed beside him. A hand brushed his arm, for once without the interference of gloves. Noctis nearly tensed at the shock of sudden skin-to-skin contact.

“Noct, how are you feeling?”

Ignis’s voice managed to soothe Noctis’s nerves, and he wanted to wrap himself in it. For a heartbeat he found himself imagining those same words whispered in his ear, accompanied by the gentle brush of lips. _Not the time._ He rolled onto his back.

“Not great,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s poison anymore.”

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” His fingertips skated over the back of Noctis’s hand, sending shivers across Noctis’s skin.

The door to the room opened, and Gladio stepped back in. “Iris says she’ll be fine by herself until tomorrow. We can regroup in the morning and head to Caem.”

“That seems a reasonable course of action.”

The four of them took turns using the shower, though Ignis had to practically drag Noctis out of bed and lock him in the bathroom to get him to follow suit. Noctis leaned against the sink and looked at himself sideways in the mirror. His skin was barely a few shades away from pallid, and there were specks of dirt on his cheeks. With a sigh, he turned on the water in the shower and waited for it to warm up.

When he’d finished, he emerged from the bathroom to find the others sitting in silence. Prompto sat on the bed closest to the door playing games on his phone, and Gladio was on the floor reading. Ignis sat on the edge of the opposite bed with a newspaper in front of him. His eyes had a distant look in them, like his mind was on something else entirely.

“Ignis, the floor is all yours,” Noctis said to him with a faint smirk.

“Of course.” Ignis stood up, dipping his head to Noctis slightly. “Your Highness.”

Prompto looked up from his phone. “Did I just hear that?” he asked. “Noctis, you gonna take that from him?”

“He’s the one sleeping on the floor,” Noctis pointed out.

“Iggy, you’ll be sleeping on the floor for the next three years at this rate,” Prompto said, trying to stifle a laugh.

“It won’t matter if Noct is sharing Lady Lunafreya’s bed.”

“Oh, come on,” Noctis groaned. “Forget this. I’m going to sleep.”

Gladio looked up at Noctis from the other side of the room. “Noct, sleeping isn’t gonna let you escape everything, you know.”

“Says you,” Noctis shot back. “’Night.”

He heard someone sigh across the room—he couldn’t be sure who—and the sounds of movement, sheets shifting and steps. Not long after that, someone turned the light off.

Noctis lay awake for a while. Prompto hadn’t been wrong about his spending most of the day asleep, but the prospect of being awake didn’t really appeal to him, either. He thought of how, when he’d been younger and living in the Citadel, Ignis had been there for him when he couldn’t sleep. Noctis had nearly always suffered from nightmares, and when they were at their worst, he’d sometimes asked Ignis to sleep beside him, to shield him from whatever imagined horrors he faced. He’d thought little of it then, but remembering it now . . .

The sound of the door closing startled him into consciousness, and he sat up. Across the room, he saw Gladio and Prompto still asleep, undisturbed by the noise. Ignis was nowhere to be seen. Had he _left?_

Heart suddenly racing, Noctis slid out of bed and strode across the room, barely remembering his boots before stepping out into the hall. Ignis had just reached the foot of the stairs and was heading for the door that would lead him outside. Noctis descended after him and, before he could step across the threshold, called his name.

Ignis stopped and turned toward him, his startled expression poorly concealed, and Noctis took the opportunity to close the distance between them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Noctis asked. “You’re the one who was throwing a fit about not being seen.”

“Noct, calm down,” Ignis said, holding his hands out as if that would keep Noctis back. Noctis noticed that his hands were still bare, no gloves, but that this had caught his attention only fueled his anger. “I simply needed a moment alone. I’ll stay out of sight.”

“Yeah, and just leave me when you can’t even guarantee my safety in the first place.”

“Gladio and Prompto would still be there in case anything happened.”

“That’s your job, too, Ignis. I don’t know if you forgot or something, but you were supposed to be my _advisor_.” Noctis crossed his arms over his chest, as if to create a barrier between them. “You were supposed to—to protect me. And this doesn’t look like that to me.”

“Noct . . .” Ignis closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“ _Please_ ,” Ignis said. “Just for a few minutes. Then we’ll return, I promise.”

He should have said no, and he knew it, but the abruptness and the ardency of the request caught him off guard. “O-okay.”

Ignis started walking, and Noctis moved to catch up. Soon they were side-by-side in the streets of Lestallum. Noctis’s heart was still pounding, and he kept glancing around to see if anyone was looking at them. No one cast them a second glance, but that failed to ease his nerves.

They didn’t stop until they reached the overlook. There, it was mostly deserted, the area cloaked in shadows. A few people had stayed around, but there wasn’t much for them to see of the landscape, as darkness had fallen across it and the day’s remaining rainclouds prevented the moon from shedding any light. Ignis led them away from the ledge, stopping near the wall on the opposite side, where the shadows were thick but bordered by fringes of pale lamplight.

He turned to Noctis. The desperation in his eyes was startling, as Noctis knew he was normally an expert at hiding his emotions, and he wondered what could possibly have affected him so much. He felt a twinge of regret for what he’d said earlier. _You were supposed to protect me._ Noctis opened his mouth to speak, but Ignis gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Noct, please, listen.” Ignis closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath before trying again. “I feel I’ve done a less than satisfactory job lately, but . . . I’ve only ever wanted to protect you. Now more so than ever. I’ve been . . .” He trailed off, and for a second Noctis thought he actually sounded breathless.

Their eyes met, and Noctis felt as if he were falling. Years spent together flooded past him: schemes to get Noctis out of the Citadel, whispered conversations in the middle of the night, shared touches noticed by neither. They’d distanced themselves recently, becoming more associates than friends. And yet now Noctis wanted to be able to turn to Ignis the way he had when they were closer.

No, he thought, he wanted more than that. He wanted Ignis to take him into his arms and not let go, wanted Ignis’s hands to warm his skin. He’d never realized it before, and he wondered how long this need had been dormant within him.

Ignis cleared his throat and broke eye contact. “There’s . . . something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Noct,” he said, softly. “I’m . . .” He trailed off, but Noctis waited. After a long silence, he said, “I’m worried about you.”

Noctis sighed. “Ignis, I know, but—”

“No, wait.” Ignis curled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his mouth. “What I mean is, Noct, I—I’m—” He drew in a breath and shook his head. “I can’t.”

He looked so distressed, and the only thing Noctis could think to do in that moment was reach out and take his hand. At first Ignis tensed, but after a heartbeat he relaxed into Noctis’s touch, and the contact seemed to calm him.

“After everything we’ve been through,” Ignis said, almost under his breath, “I can’t even do this right.”

He reached up slowly, letting Noctis’s hand slide from his and giving him time to react. His fingertips grazed Noctis’s jaw, and his thumb gently traced the outline of his mouth. Noctis didn’t pull away. He felt as if his lips were tingling, and warmth had rushed to his cheeks. He was certain that, had there been more light, the blush on his face would’ve been all too plain.

“Noct,” Ignis breathed, “I . . . am in love with you.”

Noctis felt his heart stall. These thoughts he’d had recently—he had believed they would always remain unmentionable, locked up somewhere deep inside him. When he’d tried to bring up the night he’d nearly succumbed to the poison and Ignis had left before they could talk about it, he’d thought Ignis had simply been uncomfortable at the thought of Noctis needing him, yet it had been just the opposite.

He hadn’t wanted Noctis to know that he’d needed him, too.

Noctis could only think of one way to respond. He stood up a little taller, leaned a few degrees closer, until he couldn’t stop himself or take it back. His eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips were brushing Ignis’s. He felt hands sliding to cradle his jaw, fingertips lacing through his hair as Ignis pulled Noctis to him.

A heartbeat passed in hesitation as Noctis remembered he’d never kissed anyone before, and didn’t know how. But Ignis knew what he was doing, and with the gentle, warm pressure of his mouth, he coaxed Noctis into responding. There was the subtle heat of his hands, their usual gloves absent, fingers tangling in Noctis’s hair. The movements he made with that exquisite mouth of his had Noctis tipping his head back and yielding soft, satisfied sounds.

Especially when they were younger and still living in Insomnia, Ignis had always been the one to remind Noctis of propriety, of the standards they had to meet. Noctis never would have dreamed his advisor felt this way about him, with the way he hid every trace of emotion and focused so dutifully on the public image they had to present. He couldn’t fathom how much pain that must have put Ignis in.

“Two nights ago,” he said, when he finally had a chance to catch his breath. “That was real.”

Ignis pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Noctis paused, glancing away for a moment. “I don’t remember what I said to you, but I remember how I felt. I was . . . scared.” He took a breath, fighting the tightness in his chest at the memory. “I was scared you’d leave me.”

“Noct.” Ignis slipped his arms around Noctis and pulled him close, so that his lips brushed Noctis’s ear. “There have been so many misunderstandings, and for that I’m sorry. I was . . . trying to protect you and everyone else from how I felt.”

“Why?” Noctis asked, his lips brushing Ignis’s jaw, though he knew the answer to that question. “I want you.”

“Say that again.” Ignis’s voice was little more than a whisper, and as he pulled Noctis back to him, Noctis repeated the words against his mouth. He shifted closer, and Noctis felt the press of the wall at his back. Shielded on one side by stone and on the other by Ignis.

Several long moments passed before Ignis pulled away, and when he did, Noctis realized just how sore his mouth was. He pressed a hand to his lips.

“Forgive me,” Ignis said, a remorseful smile tugging at his mouth. “I can’t help wondering what will happen if we’re found out. Perhaps we should go back.”

Noctis leaned into him so that his forehead rested against Ignis’s collarbone. “I want to stay here with you.”

“I know. As do I.” Ignis’s hand absently stroked Noctis’s hair. “But should the others wake up and find us gone, or worse yet, should someone recognize us here together . . .” He trailed off.

“Okay,” Noctis said. “Sleep sounds like a good idea anyway.” He pulled away slowly, letting Ignis capture his mouth in a final, gentle kiss. They stayed a safe distance from one another on their way back to the hotel. Not the prince and his advisor, certainly not the prince and his lover, but shadows in the street.

As quietly as they could, they returned to their room in the Leville. Noctis pulled off his boots and crawled beneath the sheets immediately. He listened to Ignis moving around the room as sleep drew him in, and minutes later he heard the sound of his name, whispered from beside the bed.

“Hmm?” Noctis murmured, rolling over.

Ignis, who’d stretched out on the floor next to the bed, reached up to Noctis. “Your hand.”

Noctis, barely awake, didn’t understand what he meant at first. But as soon as Ignis’s warm, slightly rough hand clasped his, their fingers lacing together, he knew. He draped his arm over the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

The last thing he thought of before he fell asleep was the warmth of Ignis’s hand around his, reminiscent of the warmth in the kisses they’d shared before. Reminding Noctis that while he could help it, he wasn’t letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, I almost cried while writing the scene that happens in the rain. . . . It's just . . . depressed Noctis kills me erryday :(((  
> but at least they got things figured out finally, right?


	7. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"This is not an unfamiliar force but_   
>  _It hit me harder than ever before_   
>  _All I want is to take care of you_   
>  _Promise that you'll take care of me too"_   
>  [\- Defences (acoustic)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZhGn1iZWs9c)
> 
> This is it. Shoutouts and thank-yous to everyone who contributed kudos, comments, etc. on the last chapter, it made my day every time. :) There's been some writer's block and more than a few nights without enough sleep on my end, so I needed the extra motivation.

Early the next morning, they fled Lestallum and followed the road on foot to where they’d parked the Regalia. The sun still hadn’t come up when they left, and all of them—though mostly Noctis—were groggy from sleep. Noctis kept pressing close to Ignis’s side, and at first Ignis tried to keep a foot or two of distance between them so that the others wouldn’t notice, but after a while he gave up. His hand kept brushing Noct’s, and he had to concentrate on not letting their fingers intertwine, or putting his arm around Noct’s waist.

As they got closer to the place where they’d parked the Regalia and the floodlights that illuminated the space around it, Ignis thought he saw Gladio casting glances in their direction, but he pretended not to notice.

He’d woken up that morning to find that he’d let go of Noctis’s hand when he’d fallen asleep. Noct’s arm still hung over the side of the bed, and it was all that Ignis could see of him. He’d taken Noct’s hand with the lightest touch he could and pressed soft kisses to each of his fingers.

He hadn’t expected the contact to wake Noctis, but it had. He’d leaned over the side of the bed to look at Ignis, who hadn’t put his gloves or jacket back on, nor was he even wearing his glasses yet. This wasn’t an image he’d ever allowed himself to present to Noctis. Not even when they were younger and he had, on occasion, shared Noct’s bed in an attempt to ward off the young prince’s nightmares. He’d always woken early and had a chance to make himself presentable.

But Noctis just smiled slightly, brushing his knuckles against Ignis’s cheek. “You look good,” he murmured. “Without your glasses.”

“You flatter me,” Ignis said.

A moment passed in which the two of them looked at each other in silence. Ignis found himself imagining a different scene, one in which the room wasn’t so dark and he could lie next to Noct in the sheets. He wondered what the heat of Noct’s skin might feel like against his.

No, not now. Neither he nor Noct had personal quarters anymore. There would be precious little privacy for the two of them, especially if they continued to try keeping everything a secret. He focused again on Noct’s blue eyes, heavy-lidded from sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Noct,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position and sliding his glasses onto his face. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

“If you insist,” Noctis said, his voice muffled, already sinking back into the sheets and into the clutches of sleep. As Ignis rose to his feet, he paused and pressed his lips to Noctis’s forehead. He kept his eyes on the prince’s sleeping form as he pulled on his gloves and jacket and strode to the door.

He spent the majority of the next hour seeking out supplies around Lestallum and watching his back, making sure no Imperial officers were nearby. For the first time in years, he was having trouble focusing. He needed to stay sharp in order to keep himself out of the hands of the Empire, and yet at every turn, he found his thoughts returning to what had happened between him and Noct the night before. _I want you._ Those eyes of his, dark and enthralling even without light to reflect the blue in them, and his inexperienced yet sensual mouth. None but the Crown Prince of Lucis could be allowed to have a mouth like that.

Ignis stopped and checked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t attracted a tail of any sort. He saw no one, even in the shadows—the hour was still early, and few people were about. With the supplies in hand, he’d made his way back to the Leville.

After they’d retrieved the Regalia and returned to the road, shadows still dominated the landscape and the sun took its time clearing the horizon. Ignis tried to focus on driving, reminding himself that Noct was probably asleep in the backseat anyway, but he simply wanted a moment in which they could be alone.

_Focus_ , he reminded himself, his eyes snapping back to the road. Now that the sun had risen, daemon attacks were unlikely, and they could all relax a little. But that didn’t mean he could let himself stop paying attention.

“Iggy, you need a break?” Prompto asked from beside him. “You look like you want to strangle someone.”

“No, I—” Ignis cleared his throat, searching for an excuse. “I was a bit worried while it was dark. It may take a while for that to wear off.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any daemons,” Prompto said. “And it doesn’t look like we dragged the Empire along, either. If you wanna stop . . .”

“I can keep going. How’s Noct?” Ignis glanced in the rearview mirror, but he’d positioned it precisely so that he could see the road behind them and not the inside of the car.

“He’s asleep,” Prompto said, twisting to glance at the backseat.

“Of course.” Ignis sighed. “Could one of you be so kind as to hand me an Ebony?”

He became aware nearly an hour later of the moment Noctis woke up. He heard—sensed, really—motion at his back, and words spoken in that soft, sleepy voice they always heard from Noctis when he was resisting being awake. “Where are we?”

Ignis wanted to stop the car, tell him exactly where they were, and kiss him awake. Instead he swallowed and stared hard at the lines of paint bracketing the road. He’d dealt with his feelings for Noctis all this time—he couldn’t compromise himself now. He was above this. Above letting one kiss distract him.

_It wasn’t just one kiss_ , a correcting voice whispered in the back of his mind. Ignis shook that thought away.

“On the way to Caem,” Iris told Noctis. “Just let us know if you want to stop anywhere.”

“Think I’m okay.”

Darkness closed in hours later, forcing them to slow down and find a safe haven. The others made conversation as they set up to camp there, yet Ignis felt like he was just going through the motions. Without Noctis immediately at his side, he wasn’t _whole._

“How do you think Luna’s doing, Noct?” Prompto asked, dropping into a chair.

“Don’t know,” Noct said. “It can’t be easy, dealing with the Six.”

“Indeed,” Ignis murmured.

“Well, we should be in Altissia soon, right?” Prompto said. “To give her a hand with Leviathan.”

“Provided all goes well.” Ignis didn’t know why, but he felt a sense of dread, a sinking feeling of foreboding, at the mention of Altissia and the Hydraean. He’d have to think on it later—or else push the idea from his mind entirely. He opted to change the subject. “Noct, come here and make yourself useful.”

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t need me to answer that.” He began setting out ingredients he’d need, and despite Iris’s soft laughter from behind him, he soon found Noct at his side.

“Aww, Noct. Look at you being domestic.” Iris appeared next to Noct, a teasing smile on her lips. She caught Ignis’s eye, and at the expression on her face, his heart nearly stopped. Did she know? Or was he assuming too much?

“Shut up,” Noctis said, almost under his breath.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Iris said, smiling and stepping back.

Ignis breathed a silent sigh of relief. While he doubted she had any idea about him and Noctis, even her teasing could end up giving them away if one of them slipped and reacted in the wrong way.

He managed to get through the evening without attracting any sideways glances from the others. Since that morning, when he’d let Noctis lean on him as they walked to the Regalia, Ignis had been half waiting for one of them to call him out, but no one had said anything. He supposed he ought to thank the Six for that.

Hours later, drained from driving and from having woken up so early, Ignis finally lay down and closed his eyes. He hadn’t been asleep more than a few minutes when he was nudged awake, gently and silently, by someone at his side.

He blinked against the darkness, struggling to throw off the cloak of sleep. But it was only Noctis, who, despite his movements, appeared not to have woken. He pressed closer to Ignis until their bodies were nearly flush with one another, his forehead against Ignis’s collarbone, their legs tangling. Ignis felt his heart start to race. He thought he should pull away, but he didn’t want to disturb Noctis, and . . . if he were honest with himself, he just didn’t want to move. He listened for movement from the others. When he heard none, he allowed himself to relax into Noct’s warmth and close his eyes.

He told himself he’d be up early again tomorrow, told himself no one else could see them this way. But . . . maybe if they did, they wouldn’t think anything of it. Maybe they’d attribute it to habit. Or just lack of judgment. But then again, no one else knew about those shared nights in Noct’s room in the Citadel years ago.

If Noctis could hear him now, no doubt he’d hush him in that soft, drowsy voice. _Ignis, stop thinking and go to sleep._ Ignis was tempted to wake him just to hear him say those words, but he couldn’t. Waking Noctis meant a greater chance of waking the others.

So instead he pulled the sleeping prince closer to him, emptied his thoughts, and let himself drift off.

 

* * *

 

They made it to Cape Caem by the next afternoon, though within hours of their arrival they learned they’d have to set out on the road again in search of the means to make it to Altissia. They decided to stay one night in Caem first and leave in the morning.

The house in Caem, looked after by Dustin and Monica, only had one spare room. While he was used to the arrangements they’d had to make when they stayed at hotels, Ignis had admittedly hoped for some more privacy, so that he could see Noct. He was still trying to think of some way around this when Iris volunteered him to cook dinner. Deciding that he needed a distraction, he agreed.

The two of them stood in the house’s small kitchen a while later, just out of earshot of the others, who were carrying on a conversation in the next room. Ignis could hear Noctis’s and Talcott’s voices. He couldn’t help but imagine the prince speaking with a young son years into the future. _His and Lady Lunafreya’s son,_ he reminded himself.

The thought came as an unpleasant reminder. Sure, he’d admitted his feelings and Noct had admitted to reciprocating them. But what would their future look like, if they decided to pursue it, and if Noctis returned to his throne? Heated glances in council meetings while no one else was watching? Stolen moments behind closet doors or while Lady Lunafreya was away? He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life devoted to a man who could only acknowledge him when everyone else’s backs were turned.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about this before. He’d just always thought he’d navigate those issues when he encountered them—if he ever encountered them. There had always been that tacit supposition that he’d never actually tell Noct his feelings. Or that if he did, he’d be rejected.

“Noct and Talcott are so cute,” Iris said, probably reacting to something one of them had said. Ignis had been too lost in thought to hear it. Without waiting for a reaction, Iris sighed. “I’ll miss you guys when you’re in Altissia.”

“We’ve still a long way to go before we reach the city.”

“Yeah, you’re right. There’ll still be more time for all of us to see each other.” Iris sighed. “How’s Noct dealing with it? Has he said anything?”

Ignis swallowed hard at the mention of Noctis, hoping none of his emotions showed. “He seems concerned about Lady Lunafreya’s well-being, but that’s all.”

“Well, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.” Leaning forward on the counter, Iris looked sideways at Ignis. She paused a few heartbeats, but he could tell she had something to say, so he waited. “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

Ignis drew in a sharp, involuntary breath. “What—what makes you think that?” he asked, hating the catch in his voice and hoping the warmth in his cheeks wasn’t as obvious as he thought.

“The way you look at him,” she said, smiling slightly. “And the way he looks at you.”

He ran his hands through his hair, anxious. “I—I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to—I’m aware it’s not—that is, Lady Lunafreya—”

“Hey, don’t freak out, okay? It’s not my place to judge,” Iris said carefully. “I’ve known for a while, anyway.”

“How long?” Ignis could feel his hands shaking, and he hid them behind his back. Someone else finding out his true feelings toward the prince was one of his greatest fears, second only to losing Noct.

“Probably since that first night we talked.” Her tone was almost apologetic. “I didn’t want to say anything. You seemed distressed.”

Ignis let out a long, slow breath. “I’d rather no one else knew.”

“I won’t tell,” Iris said.

She moved aside, and he saw that she’d set out produce on a cutting board. He’d have to decide whether he wanted to have that fight with Noctis tonight. Ignis arranged the produce and took the knife into one of his still-trembling hands, but as soon as he did, Iris’s hands slipped around his and took it back.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she said. “Let me do it. There are other things for you to take care of.”

“Indeed.” Relinquishing the knife, Ignis turned away.

He sat beside Noct at the table in the dining room later. After what Iris had said, he didn’t want to be caught looking at Noctis, yet he could feel Noctis looking at him. After several minutes of this, Ignis reached out, slowly, and brushed the back of his hand against Noct’s. Noctis intertwined their fingers without hesitation. Ignis held on as long as he could, until Iris cut him a meaningful glance from across the table and knew he had to let go.

He lay awake after the others had gone to sleep. He’d let Noctis take the bed again, though really, there was never any choice for him. Who was he to ask the Crown Prince of Lucis to sleep on the floor?

He shifted, trying to make himself comfortable, and a whisper from his side got his attention. “Ignis . . . do you wanna come up? I can’t sleep either.” In the scarce light, he could see Noctis looking over the edge of the mattress at him.

“What will the others say?” Ignis asked, a smile working its way across his lips.

“They won’t say anything. You always wake up before everyone else anyway.”

Ignis hesitated. “What if I were to ask you to come out on a walk instead?”

“I guess I could take you up on that.”

“Then let’s go. Quietly.”

The whole house was shadowy and near silent, illuminated by shafts of moonlight that slipped through the few windows. He had the sudden impression that Noctis looked like a ghost, and he remembered those nights—they all felt so long ago now—when he’d denied himself sleep, afraid of the fantasies his unconscious mind might spin. Those nights he’d drifted off for mere moments at a time only to dream that Noctis stood at his side, and to wake and find that he’d vanished. Like a ghost. As soon as they were outside, he reached out and took Noct’s hand.

“What’s that about?” Noctis asked, looking up at him. His tone wasn’t unkind.

Ignis released an embarrassed sigh. “My apologies. It’s nothing. I’ll just—” He pulled his hand back, but Noctis refused to let go.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you to.” A small smile played at his lips, and Ignis found himself unable to take his eyes away. “I’m just wondering if something’s up, that’s all.”

What was he supposed to say? _I used to have dreams about you? I was afraid of losing you before I even had you in the first place?_ Both of those sounded ridiculous, even in his head. He drew breath to speak, to say everything was fine, but what came out was, “I’ve . . . missed having you close to me.” So much for not sounding like a complete fool.

“Me too,” Noctis said, without hesitation. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding . . . ?” Understanding his meaning, Ignis squeezed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Noct, I’d just rather the others not find out.”

Noctis wasted no time: he took both of Ignis’s hands captive and held them near his chest while he tipped his chin up to let their lips meet. He kept the kiss short and gentle before moving on to his jaw and then his throat. Ignis tried to remain steady throughout all of this, but his skin warmed, and his pulse pounded. When he felt Noctis’s lips graze his neck, he tipped his head back and felt Noctis smile, one of his hands sliding through Ignis’s hair.

“ _Noct_ ,” he moaned before he could stop himself.

Noctis hummed a little in response, still smiling softly, his mouth still brushing Ignis’s skin.

“We should . . . go elsewhere,” Ignis managed, barely able to finish the sentence. He needed to check himself. Losing control like that . . . But he’d ached for Noctis’s touch so long that every brush of skin against skin was more than overwhelming.

“Where?” Noctis asked. Ignis could feel the warm cadences of his breath, and he had to fight back a shiver.

“This way.” He took Noctis’s hand and moved away from the house, toward the lighthouse, the hill that overlooked the shore, the wooden fence that bordered it. He had no plan and hated the feeling—it was as if the floor had dropped out from under him—but after Noctis had kissed him he’d all but forgotten who he was.

At the fence they stopped. The shore, he had to admit, was beautiful at night. Pale moonlight outlined dark water and almost everything else they could see. The stars blanketed the sky above them, brighter and denser than they ever would have looked from Insomnia. Ignis pulled Noct closer to him, and Noct, looking away from the mosaic of sky and sea beyond them, placed a brief, careful kiss on his mouth.

Ignis threaded fingers through his hair and deepened the kiss, all his insecurities rushing back suddenly. What would happen once they reached Altissia, and Noctis met Lady Lunafreya again? He felt a sudden surge of panic clawing up his throat, the kind he only ever felt when something happened with Noctis. He knew Noctis had sensed it in his movements when he pulled back.

“Ignis?” he asked, his voice quiet, a little husky, a little concerned. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

Noct’s lips parted as if he meant to reply, but Ignis leaned in again, silencing any retort he might have made. He let his hands wander, sliding past Noctis’s shoulders and down to his waist. Noctis issued a small surprised sound at the contact. He placed his own hands over Ignis’s, keeping them braced against his hips.

“Stop worrying,” he murmured. “What can I do?”

Ignis paused, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment to breathe before answering. “You can . . . kiss me,” he said finally. “Until I forget how to worry.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that.” Noctis smiled a little. “I’d be happy to.”

He reached up and took hold of Ignis’s glasses, sliding them gently away from his face. Ignis thought of protesting, but in the end he said nothing. He folded them into his hand, letting his fingers brush Noct’s, and slipped them into the pocket of his jacket.

And consequently he lost sight of everything except Noctis, willingly, surrendering all of the thoughts that usually weighed him down. After a moment Noct began to change the way he moved, as if remembering how his name had sounded earlier on Ignis’s lips and wanting to hear it again. His hands slipped to Ignis’s waist, tracing paths just above his belt that made Ignis’s skin tingle, and his lips parted slightly more than they had before. The space was enough to invite Ignis to explore Noct’s mouth with his tongue.

Noct held out far longer than Ignis had expected him to, but he broke down eventually, and a low moan escaped him. As if in retaliation, he dropped his mouth from Ignis’s, moving instead to the spot just under his collar where his neck met his shoulder. That kiss turned quickly into a bite and Ignis sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation.

“Noct, I—”

“Don’t talk,” Noctis whispered, and the feeling of his lips against skin made Ignis shiver. He almost spoke again but, fearing that doing so would bring his anxieties back, he decided against it.

He lost himself, gratefully, in their silence again.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Gladio announced that he was leaving them. Though he cited no reason, Ignis had a feeling he knew why. Still, he opted to say nothing. He was tired of enduring pointless arguments.

He, Prompto, and Noctis left soon after that. Their destination—the one that would, hopefully, yield mythril ore—was days away at best, Ignis had discovered when he located it on their map. Just before dusk on the first day, he suggested they find a safe haven and pull over.

That first night, he found himself lingering outside after the other two had gone to bed. The past several days had left him exhausted and yet he still felt reluctant to sleep. But after he’d sat outside watching the dying fire long enough, he heard movement behind him and turned to see Noctis reemerging from the tent.

_You’re not a dream,_ was his first thought, as he remembered the near-hallucinations that had plagued him not long ago. But confusing dreams with reality wasn’t exactly something he wanted to admit to, especially in front of Noct.

“Ignis,” Noct said, striding over to where he sat. He’d shed his jacket, probably to sleep, though now that he’d stepped outside he seemed to need it again. He rubbed his bare arms absently. “Why are you still out here? You should come to bed. I’m cold.”

“We can’t—” Ignis began, making a vague gesture with his hand. “We’re not _alone,_ Noct.”

“You really think Prompto’s going to care?” Noct took another step forward, so that Ignis had to look up at him, so that he stood almost between Ignis’s knees, and placed hands on his shoulders. Had he not felt the gentle pressure of Noct’s hands, Ignis thought, he might not have been able to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. “What are you going to do, sleep out here?”

Ignis sighed. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then come back with me,” Noctis breathed. He toyed with the edges of Ignis’s collar, his drowsy attention on the fabric and on the slow motions of his hands. Ignis caught his breath at the feeling of Noct’s fingers brushing his skin. He needed to keep himself in check, to keep himself from doing anything foolish. He needed—

He needed Noctis, he concluded, and found his hands in Noctis’s hair, his mouth on Noct’s soon after that. He was weak. He couldn’t keep himself from this—he’d never been able to.

“This is your fault,” he whispered against Noctis’s mouth.

Noctis nipped his lower lip, leaving Ignis biting back something like a sigh and wondering when he’d learned how to do that. “If I remember right, you were the one who talked about your feelings first.”

“And you made me fall in love with you,” Ignis said, breathless. “Still your fault.”

“I didn’t—” Noctis began, a smile forming on his lips. Ignis stopped him before he could finish the sentence.

Even when, later, Ignis lay with Noctis curled against his chest, he tried to keep himself from falling asleep. He wanted Noct close to him like this always. And no matter what he told himself, he just couldn’t shake that want.

“Ignis,” Noct whispered, breaking the silence, startling him. He’d thought for sure Noct had fallen asleep, yet he rolled over to face Ignis. “I can tell you’re still awake.”

“I’m all right,” Ignis said. “Try to sleep, Noct.”

“I can’t when you’re all tense like that.” He slid a hand around Ignis’s waist. Though the contact startled him at first, he took a few deep breaths and allowed himself to relax. He threaded his arms around Noct, pulling him close.

Noctis sighed. “That’s better.”

Ignis drew breath to say something else, but words couldn’t express what he felt, lying there with Noct in his arms. And so instead he fell silent, and fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

He was fairly sure Prompto didn’t know, but occasionally Ignis caught him looking at the two of them with an expression somewhere between confused and suspicious. Once the alarm had actually managed to wake Ignis—he and Noct had stayed up too late—and he’d barely had time to put distance between himself and the prince before Prompto saw them. Another time, he and Noct had been standing outside together, believing they were alone, and Noct had been tracing a thumb across Ignis’s lips when Prompto stepped out of the tent. The two of them had jumped apart rather conspicuously.

The long night they spent in Steyliff Grove, looking for the mythril ore, lasted forever. Ignis tried for hours not to admit it to himself, but all he wanted was to take Noctis and find somewhere to sleep. He focused instead on the task set to them. But when the hour was early enough, he finally allowed the thought past his defenses.

They were escorted by the Empire’s Commodore Aranea Highwind, whom Ignis recognized in a heartbeat as the woman who’d threatened to kill him back at the base. When they’d met outside the ruins, the two of them had locked eyes for a moment as if they’d commence a duel, but then Aranea had waved her hand dismissively and turned, instructing them to follow.

As they’d moved through the ruins and Aranea revealed her story in pieces, Ignis began to understand. She may have threatened his life, but she’d never dared take it. She’d appeared right before he found the Empire’s antidotes. And the base had been eerily quiet when they’d left the second time, save for that lone sniper.

They’d seemed to come to an unspoken agreement with Aranea when they left the ruins. Their animosity toward one another had lessened, and Ignis imagined things seemed a little clearer. Perhaps she was one of the reasons Noctis was still with them.

They flew to Lestallum, where they met up with Iris and Gladio again, before making their way back toward Caem. Keeping his and Noctis’s _thing_ a secret was even more difficult with all four of them there. Especially when, at first, Ignis tried not to look or act differently toward Noct than he usually did, and Noct persisted in antagonizing him with touches and movements that would’ve been all too obvious to anyone watching closely enough.

He pulled Noct aside once, so that they were out of earshot of the other two. “We could’ve been seen,” he hissed. “You shouldn’t—touch me like that—when they’re around.”

“They’re gonna notice something’s up if you keep avoiding me,” Noctis said, not even bothering to lower his voice. “Come on, Specs. It’s like hiding in plain sight.”

Ignis winced at his use of the nickname, but Noctis was grinning. “Fine, just . . . nothing too over the top, all right?”

“You got it.” From the tone of his voice, Ignis half expected Noctis to skip away or something, but instead he just moved closer and placed a teasing kiss on Ignis’s cheek.

“Noct,” Ignis began, exasperated, but Noctis had already taken the opportunity to vanish, and he sighed, giving up.

The night before they returned to Caem, he convinced Noctis to slip out with him and guided them away from the safe haven where they’d stopped earlier, keeping a careful eye out for daemons. Seeing none, he found a spot and sat down on the ground, turning to Noctis and indicating the space next to him. Noct sat and rested his head against Ignis’s shoulder.

They’d done this before—watched the stars together, until the hour got too late or Noctis fell asleep—but somehow it was different with Noctis’s body pressed against his, their warmth bleeding together, their closeness like a drug. They spoke in low tones to each other, in voices barely louder than whispers, as Noctis pointed out some of the constellations he remembered from when they were younger and Ignis supplied the names of the others. It was only a matter of time before he felt himself being drawn toward sleep.

“Your voice sounds really nice when you’re tired,” Noctis murmured. “You should stay up more often.”

“I barely sleep as it is.”

“You should stay with me when I’m sleeping then,” Noctis said. “Maybe it’ll . . . help.”

“With the nightmares?”

Noctis didn’t respond. Ignis thought at first that he’d actually fallen asleep, but when he glanced sideways, he saw that Noctis was still awake and had just chosen not to answer. He realized he was running his hand absently through Noct’s hair.

A moment later, Noctis leaned over to him and softly pressed his lips to the corner of Ignis’s mouth. Too tired to resist, Ignis turned his head to align his mouth with Noct’s, parting his lips, his movements unhurried. The kisses that followed were slow and tender and sleepy.

“How many others have there been?” Noctis asked, breaking the silence. He sounded so tired, his words were almost slurred, and it took Ignis a moment to understand.

He blinked. “What?”

“Before me,” Noct said, looking up at him. The starlight flashed in his blue eyes. “You’ve . . . done this before. I haven’t. I was just wondering . . .”

“Noct . . .” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he made himself continue. “There were a few.”

“What were they like?”

Ignis closed his eyes. This was about the last thing he wanted on his mind at the moment, and yet, Noctis had asked. He couldn’t help but let the fleeting details pass through his thoughts. A flash of dark eyes. A pair of slender hands, confiscating his glasses. His own hands fisted in pale sheets.

“Not at all like you,” he said quietly, looking away. “More demanding, and never as rewarding.”

“Men or women?” Noctis asked. Ignis couldn’t tell if the drowsiness was still influencing his voice, or if his tone was actually cautious. Probably the exhaustion—Noctis had ignored the fact that he’d called him rewarding, and Ignis doubted he would’ve even had the nerve to ask such a question if he’d been fully awake. He hesitated.

But rather than waiting for an answer, Noctis turned to kiss Ignis’s shoulder. Ignis suddenly wished the fabric of his shirt wasn’t separating his skin from the touch of Noctis’s lips, and warmth rushed to his face at the thought. When Noct slid arms around his neck, fingers grazing the skin just above his collar and sliding past strands of his hair, he couldn’t keep himself from shivering. He pulled Noct closer to him.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more than you, Noct.”

Noctis hummed sleepily in response. Ignis wondered if he had even heard a word or if he was already too far gone.

“Ignis, you’re going to have to carry me back,” he murmured. “I’m too tired to walk.”

“And what would that look like?” Ignis asked. “If the others were to see us?”

“Who cares?” This time his lips brushed Ignis’s skin, and Ignis gave in, lifting Noct from the ground and pulling him into his arms. Noct leaned his head against Ignis’s shoulder. “You’re so warm. . . .”

“Shh.” Ignis focused on the ground beneath his feet, on not falling, though it was near impossible to focus on anything but Noct. “You need to rest.”

Noctis quieted after that, and by the time they reached the safe haven, he’d fallen asleep in Ignis’s arms. Ignis slipped past the tent’s opening and lowered Noct carefully to the floor, where he lay down beside him. Neither Prompto nor Gladio appeared to be awake—they were still, and Ignis could hear the steady patterns of their breathing. He tried to take deep breaths as well.

Any night could be their last night together.

 

* * *

 

The four of them agreed to stay a few nights in Caem to regroup before setting out for Altissia, and that night Ignis couldn’t seem to stay focused. His mind kept spinning the events of the day in circles, relentlessly reminding him of the task that would be set to them in the morning. He’d taken to pacing the spare room where the four of them were staying.

Finally Noctis, finishing the game he’d been playing on his phone with Prompto, crossed the room and tugged at his hand, pulling him toward the door. “Ignis,” he said, “let’s go.”

Ignis was keenly aware of Prompto watching them from behind his phone, his brows raised. He forced himself to meet Noctis’s eyes. “Where are we going, Noct?” he asked. His voice was too quiet, his tone too soft.

“Somewhere? I don’t know.” Noct shrugged. “You seem anxious. I thought you might want to leave for a while.”

Ignis closed his eyes, adjusted his glasses, sighed. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go,” Noct said, his hand curling around Ignis’s. He started to lead them toward the door. “You can’t just walk back and forth all night. None of us will be able to sleep.”

“So you’re concerned about being able to sleep.”

Noctis turned back to look at him as they cleared the threshold, his lips curving into a smile. “Obviously. If you weren’t next to me, how would I—”

“Noct,” Ignis said, dropping his hand. They stood on the landing just outside the door, next to the stairs that led down into the kitchen and dining room. The rest of the house was silent, but the door was slightly open and he could hear other voices, distantly, from outside. Any of them could walk in at any moment. Or Prompto could open the door that connected their room and the hallway. “Please. We have to keep this quiet.”

“Why?” Noctis asked, defiant. Before Ignis could respond, Noctis took a step forward, pushing him against the wall, and kissed him. Ignis felt powerless to do anything but kiss him back.

“I don’t wish to have that conversation with everyone else,” Ignis said after a moment. “I just . . . I want _you_ , Noct. That’s all.” He released a breath. “Shall we go outside?”

Noctis agreed, and moments later they had slipped through the front door, narrowly avoiding the attention of Iris and Gladio and the others in the fading light. Ignis had thought they’d return to their spot beside the lighthouse, but Noctis guided him to a different place instead. It was more secluded, spreading out behind the cover of a few trees, and faced the coast on the other side. Ignis doubted they’d be easy to find here, though he knew their voices could carry if they weren’t careful. He wondered how Noct had found it.

“How did you know this was here?” he asked.

Noct absently ran a hand through his hair. “I might’ve . . . been looking for some quiet places. When we first got here.”

“And did you find any others?”

“It’s mostly just this and the lighthouse.” He shrugged.

Ignis drew in a deep breath. “It’ll be dark soon,” he said. “We shouldn’t stay out here too long. But if you do want a few minutes alone, I—”

He broke off, the rest of his sentence giving way to a short sound of surprise from the back of his throat, as Noctis kissed him again. It was just as sudden as the first but not as unyielding. He wondered if the same things he’d been worrying over were on Noct’s mind as well, or if he was simply afraid of losing Ignis so soon. Each kiss was more desperate than the last. Noct was gripping the front of Ignis’s shirt, pulling him down, and Ignis could feel his glasses balanced at a dangerous angle on his face. He paused for a heartbeat to remove them before pushing them into the pocket of his jacket and giving them no further thought.

His hands drifted up to Noctis’s waist to rove slowly up and down his sides, and Noct pressed closer, a little low whine escaping him. He whispered Ignis’s name against his lips. The sound of that alone, Ignis thought distantly, could unravel him.

Drawing back, Noctis took hold of one of Ignis’s hands, gently, and began to peel off the first of his gloves. The tips of his fingers slipped under the seams to brush against his bare wrists, and Ignis shivered.

“I don’t understand why you always wear these,” Noct said in a low voice, discarding the first glove almost casually and moving on to the other one.

“Noct.” Ignis glanced pointedly at his glove lying abandoned in the grass beside them, but Noctis was far too interested in his hands. He pulled off Ignis’s second glove, studying his hand for a moment before kissing his knuckles, almost experimentally. Ignis’s breath caught at the sensation.

Noctis took his hands again and brought them back to his waist. Ignis let his grip tighten on Noctis’s hips, and an abrupt, needy sort of sound escaped Noctis as he leaned closer. For the next several moments, Noct managed to make Ignis forget himself again. The thoughts that they might be found and that they’d have to exercise caution vanished. His mind went blissfully blank.

Finally Noctis pulled away to catch his breath, and for a while they just held each other, occasionally letting their hands drift. Noctis seemed almost high off his touch, closing his eyes, his lips slightly parted as he absorbed the contact. In that moment Ignis was content with just watching him, keeping his hands resting firmly on his waist. Touching him hadn’t even been an option weeks ago.

“Do you want . . . I mean, would you ever . . .” Noctis began, guiding one of Ignis’s hands just under the hem of his shirt. Understanding struck all too suddenly.

“No,” he said quickly, drawing his hand back a little. At the stricken expression on Noctis’s face, he began again, softening his tone. “I mean, yes, Noct. I would. But we can’t. The others would almost certainly find out.” He studied the prince a moment longer and added, “And you’ve never taken anyone to bed, have you?”

“Um.” Noctis stared back at him, lips parted slightly. “No.”

“It’s all right. But perhaps it would be best to wait.” Ignis traced the prince’s cheekbone with a thumb, wanting so badly to capture his inviting lips again but unable to ignore the unfinished question. Had Noct asked this of him because he wanted it, or because he thought it was expected of him? “And perhaps you should be with Lady Lunafreya.”

“Ignis, I—” Noct stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be with Luna. I mean—I _do_ —but it’s not the same.”

“She is your betrothed, Noctis,” Ignis said. “And you are to meet her in Altissia. Besides, were we still in Insomnia, you and I would not be . . . allowed. I am not of suitable status for you. The most I could ever be to you is a . . . a paramour.”

“Don’t _say_ that,” Noctis said, folding his arms over his abdomen and taking another step back, so that he stood against the fence. “Besides, this isn’t Insomnia. It isn’t the court. It doesn’t matter.”

“What would you ask of me, then?” Ignis asked. He hadn’t meant to bring this up with Noct, at least not this soon. But the vague worries that had persisted at the back of his mind so long ago, when he’d let himself daydream, were real now. Their journey to Altissia wasn’t far off. He’d have little time left with Noctis, and that was time they’d have to spend hiding.

“Stay with me.” The prince’s sharp blue eyes cut into him. “Just stay with me. I’m not losing you because of your stupid propriety.”

Ignis wanted to reply, wanted to tell him that there was nothing _stupid_ about propriety and that, had they been together back in Insomnia, he almost certainly would have learned that the hard way, but he suddenly couldn’t find his voice. He’d been the one to initiate this. He’d been the one to confess his feelings. Had he really wanted to follow the rules, he would have remained silent.

And Insomnia’s court likely no longer existed anyway.

“Noct, I am so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. He pulled Noctis to him again, and Noctis buried his face in Ignis’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Noctis murmured.

They held each other for several long moments. When Noctis finally dared to break the silence, it was with a voice near a whisper.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” he asked. “Even if things . . . don’t go well in Altissia? Even after that?”

Ignis drew in a shaky breath. “No,” he said after a moment. “I wouldn’t dare, Noct. I couldn’t bear it.”

“Good.” One of Noctis’s hands curled around the fabric of his shirt again. “Because I need you. I’ve always needed you. You know that.”

After a short silence, he looked up and murmured, “Anything else worrying you?”

“Nothing more so than that.” Ignis sighed. “Shall we go back?”

“Only if you promise you’ll stop caring about what the others think,” Noctis said, a teasing smile working its way across his lips. “I don’t want you sleeping on the floor anymore.”

“Noct—”

“Promise,” Noctis said, a pleading note in his voice. “I sleep better when you’re there.”

“You can sleep anywhere,” Ignis pointed out. “You don’t need my help with that.”

“Ignis, don’t tell me you’re seriously trying to get out of sharing my bed.”

A low, surprised laugh escaped him. “I wish I weren’t.”

“Then shut up and come with me,” Noct answered, pressing closer, so that Ignis could barely concentrate on anything except the warmth of him, the lines of Noct’s body flush with his own. He had a feeling that had the others not been around, he might’ve gone back on his resolve. Might have agreed to actually take the prince to bed. If they happened to find that freedom in Altissia, if they were to conveniently find themselves alone . . . While he didn’t dare try to promise such a thing, either to Noctis or himself, his own body begged him to, in ways he couldn’t exactly ignore.

“Don’t make me do anything I’ll regret.” He moved in and brushed his lips against Noct’s, but Noct treated the kiss as if it were their last, crushing them together. Ignis barely kept himself from reacting audibly. When they were apart once more, he slid his glasses back on and glanced at the darkening sky, murmuring, “We should go back.”

“Are you sure?”

Ignis sighed softly, a smile teasing his lips. “No, but we’re going.”

He started to turn away, but Noctis called his name from a few steps behind. “You forgot your gloves.” A heartbeat later, Noctis was beside him, slipping the gloves to him and letting his hand linger slightly longer than necessary.

“I should like to forget them more often, after what you just did to me,” Ignis said, his voice low.

“I can make that happen.” Noctis grinned.

“Hey! Noct! Ignis!” Gladio’s voice shouted to them from the house just across the path, cutting their conversation short. Ignis tried to increase the distance between him and Noct, though he doubted they were easy to see in the darkness, especially from the house with its surrounding lights. He curled the pair of gloves into his hand. He didn’t want to be caught putting them back on, not when the motion would no doubt draw attention to the fact that he’d taken them _off_.

“You guys are finally back,” Prompto said, appearing in the doorway behind Gladio. Ignis spotted Iris standing in the shadows of the porch, one hand pressed to her mouth, though it couldn’t begin to hide the smile on her face. She knew.

“What were you two up to?” Gladio asked. “If we were anywhere else I’d have thought you got eaten by daemons.” His eyes tracked downward, to where Ignis held his pair of gloves in one conspicuously bare hand. He looked back at Ignis and raised his eyebrows.

Ignis was a breath away from saying _It’s not what it looks like,_ but he knew that would only encourage the three of them to think it was exactly what it looked like. Noctis spoke before he could condemn them both.

“Ignis couldn’t sit still,” Noctis said, that sarcastic smile lurking on his lips. “I had to drag him out here so he’d stop pacing and wearing a hole through the floor.” Ignis, in response, shot a sideways glance at him, which Noct returned without any semblance of caution.

“Whatever you say,” Gladio answered.

“Hey, since you guys are back, we should play some video games or something,” Prompto said.

“Sure,” Noctis agreed. He and Prompto led the way inside, still talking idly, and Ignis followed. He knew Iris was looking at him, but he dared not meet her eyes. As soon as the others’ backs were turned, he slipped his gloves on again.

Later, when the hour was much too late and Ignis had started to feel dizzy from the lack of sleep, the four of them decided to turn out their lights. Ignis had set his things down on the floor as usual and was crossing to the bathroom door when the room fell into darkness. He felt Noctis grab his wrist and heard his name whispered fiercely in the near-silence.

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” Ignis answered him, dropping his voice so that even he could barely hear it. “I haven’t forgotten.”

He shut himself in the bathroom, switched on the light, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Was there anything different about him now that he’d crossed new boundaries, now that he’d confessed to loving a prince? He couldn’t see any changes, but perhaps they were there, subtle and nearly invisible to his own eyes.

Ignis shrugged off his jacket and left it hanging behind the door, set his glasses on the counter, removed his gloves, and—ah. There it was. How Noct saw him. He couldn’t help smiling a little at the image in the mirror before he shut the light off and stepped back out.

He heard movement from Noctis’s side of the room, though the others had already stopped giving any signs that they were awake. He wondered if they had indeed fallen asleep already, or if they were simply still and listening.

“Ignis?” Noct’s voice whispered.

“It’s me,” Ignis reassured him and slipped beneath the sheets. Noct curled up against him, hands resting against his chest, lending Ignis some of his warmth.

Ignis shifted closer and pressed a kiss to Noct’s forehead. “Tomorrow,” he said softly. “I’ll be here, whenever you need me.”

“Mm.” He was silent for a while, and Ignis had just started to let sleep pull him under when he heard Noct murmuring again, in words that should have brought him fully back to consciousness: “I love you.”

But Noctis’s drowsiness was contagious, and instead Ignis surrendered the inhibitions that would have once forced him to keep those words to himself. “I love you, too, Noct.” Each word was a rush of relief.

He wanted to stay awake, to count every second of this night and feel every beat of Noctis’s heart, but he couldn’t fight his exhaustion any longer. His eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed into the curve of Noctis’s body, letting the echoes of those words carry him into sleep.

Someday, he knew, they would have to face duty, but for now he could pretend the Crown Prince was his and his alone.

He imagined the stars above Lucis shone even brighter for them that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I feel like everything that happens after Altissia sits on a different plane than the entire rest of the game. Like they can exist without each other. That's kind of how I felt writing this fic - I wanted to stay within the canon timeline while still kind of ignoring everything that's eventually going to happen.  
> This chapter was honestly really difficult for me to write and edit. I wrote the first version of the ending about three weeks ago and it went in a COMPLETELY different direction than what I intended, so I had to redo it. More than once, too. But here we are.
> 
> If you wanna ask me more questions or cry about FFXV or whatever, here's my [tumblr](https://iridiumring92.tumblr.com/)  
> and I'd still love to hear your comments, what you thought of this chapter and the story itself :)  
> Anyway, I'll be posting more stuff soon, I have more projects in the works!


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